Glass "£> J 15- Book - S& CRUELTY IN MATURITY. See Page 165% THE 1 AND ESSENCE OF MORALITY) EXTRACTED FROM THE PRODUCTIONS OF THE ENLIGHTENED AND BENEVOLENT OF VARIOUS AGES AND CLIMES. Illustrated with Engravings* Whenever you see a man beating any animal, you will almoit always find, that the man is in the wrong and the animal is in the right. — Edinburgh Encyclopedia. ALBANY : PUBLISHED BY O. STEELE, AND BY D. M'KFRCHER, NO* 28, GRE^-TTREFT. 1856/ * ^4n7/ person wishing to republish this book, will be furnished with a gratuitous use of all the plates. The copy -right of the cut of the tcild " Horsey" on page 383, has been secured, by the proprietor, to pre- vent its being used for purposes contrary to the object *f this publication. THE SPIRIT OF HUMANITY, AND SUBSMIf €B ©F VIRTUE, # " Blessed are the Merciful" ALB JIN Y: OLTVER STEELE AND D. MC KERCIIEI^ 1835 # ADVERTISEMENT. If any dedication of this compilation were required, other than to all human, or rather to all sentient beings, with whose happiness it is identified, the paramount claim would be held by the London Societies for Prevent- ing Cruelty to Animals. The substance of their pro- ceedings and publications should have enriched this thick Jittle volume, [had its diffusely printed pages permitted. A subsequent edition may supply the deficiency, and con- tain also the following valuable additions : The pertinent portion of the Farmer's Series of the Li- brary of Useful Knowledge, on Cattle, &c. ' (The existing selections have been confined to the Horse.) of the various useful publications on the Horse, by John Laiorence. of Humanity, or the Rights of Nature, and Gleanings in Wales, Holland, &c. by Mr. Pratt. Dissertation on the duty of mercy and the sin of cruelty to brute Animals, by Dr. Primatt. The duty and advantages of studying the diseases of Do- mestic Animals and their remedy, by Dr. Benjamin Rush. Hippobion, the Auto -Biography and Reflections of a Horse. CONTENTS. The Universality of Divine Providence, Bible, xi Pythagoras, Rees' Cyclopedia 1, Langhorne 9 Ovid 30, Seneca 116, Dodsley 411 Plutarch, Langhorne 6, Agathias 10, Hayley 11 Pope 28, His FaMes 410 Seneca's Morals, (on Conscience,) Torrey's Moral Instructor 114 Axioms, &c, Pythagoras 4, Aristotle 276 Plautus 289, Cicero, Antisthenes, M. Aurelius, St. Chrysostom, St. Augustine, Terence, Taci- tus, Zimmerman, Grotius, 417, Montesquieu, Gay, Coicper, 418, Montaigne, 24, 404 Foimg, Fenelon, . . • 442 Fables, The Boys and the Frogs, £so^7, 402 The Wolf and the Lamb, " 408 The Ass and his Tyrant, " 409 The Lion and the Man, li 410 The Wolf and the Shepherds, Plutarch^ 410 Vice and Fortune, " 410 Pythagoras and the Critic, Dodsley, 411 The Bear, " 412 The Wild Boar and the Sheep, Gay, 413 The Adder and the Traveller, Pilpay 32 Proverbs, comments by Thomas Fielding, 414 Select Maxims, Henry Home (Lord Kaimes) 65 The Hindoos, Encyclopedia Brittanica, 12 The Bramin, James Montgomery, 16 The Laws of Nature, Rev. Richard Cumberland, 450 The Passions and Affections, Francis Hut cheson 419 Moral Good and Evil, " 422 Nature Delineated, William Wollaston, 452 Cruelty, Crimes, u 456 Utility of Knowledge, f\ 457 11 CONTENTS. Practical Morality, William Perm, 117 Essay on Man, Alexander Pope, 24 Moral Sentiment, Adam Ferguson, 121 Happiness, " 124 Moral Science, James Beattie, 284 Moral Practice, James Hay Beattie, 289 Economy of Human Life, Robert Dodsley, 136 Isaac Newton, Thomas Thomson, Encyc. 23 Uncle Toby, Laurence Sterne, 38 John Howard, Biography 78, Burke, Hayley, 84 Cowper 87, Bowles 86, Darwin 445 The Slate of Prisons, John Howard, 441 Civility, Good Breeding, Chesterfield, 140 To Superiors, Equals, Jt 141, 142 To Inferiors, "■ 144 Morality, < J 147 Rule of Action, " 149 Peevishness, Samuel Johnson, 94 Truth, Humanity, Hugh Blair, 88, 90 Gentleness, " 91 Amiableness, Hannah More. 283 Affections and Passions, T. Cogan, 426 Love, Hatred, " 427, 428 Sympathy, Horror, " 429, 480 Virtue, Happiness, " 431, 433 Mercy, Shakspean t 22 Ingratitude, " 434 Pleasures of the Imagination, Mark Akenside, 43 George Keate, 437 Love Rejected, Shenstone, 435 Highland Mary, Burns, 438 Woman, Ledyard, 439 Primeval Innocence, James Thomson, 132 Miseries of Life, " 134 The Tear, Rogers, 44 Benevolence, Looking -Glass for the Mind, 222, 277 Pity, Murray's Reader, 304 Erasmus Darwin, 446 Sensibility, Hannah More, 290 Sensibility perverted, " 461, Miss Moore 462 Iteason aJQd Passion, Roioley, 476 CONTENTS. i*ll Seduction, Hawkesworth 64, Wolcolt 202 Gaming, -Dr. Cotton, 475 Intemperance, Song, JV. Y. Journal of Commerce) 473 Medical Remedy, iV. York Newspaper, 474 Treatment of the Insane, T. Romcyn Beck, 471 War, its causes, Jonathan Swift, 171 Its cruelties " 173, Hawkesworth, 174 Locke 20, Miss Williams 175, flaw. More 177 Battle Song, The Recruiting Sergeant, 176 £u«ilism, Vicesimus Knox, 278 The Gladiator, Byron, Penny Magazine, 282 The Indians, James Buchannan, 275 Slavery (the captive) Sterne 39, Hippobion 255 African Slavery, Homer, Longinus, Tacitus, 257 Pliny, Rollin, he Poivre, 260 Montesquieu, Beattie, 257 JDr. Primatf s Dissertation, 273 Cowper 270, Darwin, 447 The Stove Trade, Wilberforce, Fox, 261 Montgomery 254, Southcy 251 In the U. States, Jefferson 262, Kosciusko, 273 Abolition Society, B en jo.min Franklin, 273 Horrors of Slavery, Jo/m Kenrick, 466 Protest against, Daniel O v Connell, 271 General Assembly of the Church; 269 Robert J. Breckenridge, 265 Genius Univ. Eman. Evan Lewis 264 Mrs. Sigourney 272, Smollet, 274 The Horse, (Turkish treatment of,) Burbequius; 230 Hawkesworth 53, Hogarth, 162 Bm/ob 349, Pennant, 366 Gay2%3, 374, Sonnini, 223 Jenyns, 70, Prior, 227 TAe Ztofce of Hamilton, 353 Bishop Porteus, Keate, 352 Mrs. Barbauld, 366, Sampson, 354 Sporting Mag. 349, Burckhardt, 352 OW Colony Memorial, 363 Docking, Pennant, 231, jGn. JBri*. Brooklyn Star, 370 Nicking, iV. Y. Workingmen' s Advocate, 367 Farrier s Dictionary, 368 It CONTENTS. Racing, Lord Herbert, 231, Cowper, 99 Report against, New York State Documents, 237 Laws agninst, Revised Statutes, 249 Feeding (234,) Salt (341,) Fodder. . 367 Rational training, Virgil, 240, Hoyt's Cavalry, 228 Encyclopedia Brittannica, 370 Supplement to do. 233 Edinburgh Encyclopedia, 356 The Farmer's Series of the Library of Useful Knowledge, 230, 375 -Canal Horses, Trans of Albany Institute. G.W.F. 235 The Post Horse, Robert Bloomfield, 226 The High Mettled Racer, Dibdin, 350 To my Horse, Edward Lytion Bulwer, 239 The Mule, Peter Pindar, 232 Wonders of the Horse, 232 The Ass, Natural History, 345, Sterne, 346 The Ox, training of, Virgil, 242, Dictionary of Arts, 243 Bull-baiting, Note to Childe Harold, 322, Verses, 324 Cows, 300 The Sheep, Robert L. Livingston, 341 The Dog, Encyclopedia, 325, Sporting Diet. 326 Treatment of, Plutarch, 8, Hogarth 157, Poi?e, 327, Newton, 23 Cruelty to, Hawkesworth, 55, J. Goldsmith, 326 Satirical Verses, Dibdin, 328 Early Friendship for, TaMc* of Taste, 244 The Wolf, Bakewell, 344 The Badger, (baiting) J. Macloc, 219 The Squirrel, William Ray, 343 The Dormouse, T/ie Pori JFo&o, 314 The Lady Bird, Charlotte Smith, 312 Hens and Geese, Colman's Anecdotes, 220 Cruelty to Vermin, Voice of Humanity, 218 Hunting, The Wounded deer, Shakespeare, 75, 76 The King of Prussia, 391 Pope 27, Chesterfield, 154 Jenyns 74, Rousseau, 390 Thomson 173, Chalmers, 180 Encyclopedia Britt. 392, Burns, 77 Sturms Reflections 111, Wolcott, 199 COTTENTS. V Hunting Ballad, Burger, trans, by Walter Scott, 385 Hunter's Horn, **88 The Birds. Shenstone 436; Pope, 29, 32 The Captive Starling, Sterne, 38 Hawkesworth, 57, 62 J, O'Ryan, tr. by Charlotte Brooke, 318 James Grahame 399, Alison, 119 Starm 109, Wolcott, 200 North American Review, 316 Confinement, Dublin Penny Journal, 333 The Factory, Grahame, 399 Fishes, %rorc 319, CoZ, Thornton, 321 Barhydt, Finch, 321 Whales, George Golman, 221 The Bees, Thomson 333, Encyclopedia Britt. 334 Modes of saving their lives, Wheeler s Travels in Greece, 335 .Rez?. .Mr. 07i&e, 337, ^imer. Farmer, 335 A Metempsychosis, The Work-Horse, Racer, Dog, Bulfinch, Cockchaffer, Earth-Worm, JLobster, Pig, Blackbird, and Young Woman. Hawkesworth, 50 Cruelty to Animals, Alexander Pope,, 24 Oliver Goldsmith, 46 Soame Jenyns, 69 William Cowper, 97 C C. Sturm's Reflections, 103 The Island of Innocence, JoAra Wolcott, 199 Progress of Cruelty, William Hogarth, 155 Its First Stage, " 156 Its Second Stage, " 160 Cruelty in Maturity, John Truster- 165 Sermon ok Cruelty, Thomas Chalmers, 178 Slaughtering and Kitchen, do, 179, 195 Hindoos 14, Pope 28 5 Goldsmith, 48 Hogarth 163, Hawkesworth, 61 Anti-Vice Society, 216 Cruel Exhibitions, Burton s Lectures, 291 Menagerie, Dublin Penny Journal M. P„ 333 Dancing Animals, Newspaper, 318 Humanity to Amimals, Buck's Theological Diet. 307 Thomas Scott 222, Durham, 467 VI COW TENT 8, Pierre Lyonnet, Cuvier, 31$ A. Wilson, Sparks, 313 Spurzheim 307, Dr. Percival, 309 Demestic Animals. New England Farmer^ 308 Happiness of, E. Jesse, 305 Indiana Disseminator, 402 The Inferior Orders, Anonymous, 402 John Mason Good, 405 The Sufferings and Souls of Brutes, Bougeant, 477 Des Cartes 478, Bishop Butler, 479 Society for Bettering the Condition of the Poor, Thomas Bernard, 465 Society for the Suppression of Vice, 216 Criticism on do., Edinburgh Revieic, 217 Society for Preventing Cruelty to Animals. 218 Laws against cruelty, Bentham by S. Dumont, 468 do. John Neat, 470 Albany Daily Advertiser f 246 Board of Health, 246 New York Revised Statutes } ^ 249 Ohio Laics, 251 -Education, John Locke 18, Encyclopedia Britt. 203 Hogarth, Trusler, 159, Anon. 404 Howard ; Hugo Arnott, 444 Paley 209, Williams, 458 Darwin 407, 447, Alison, 1Q0 ilfrs. Macauley Graham, 295 Madame De Gcnlis, More 459 Maria Edgeworth, 296 Miss Hamilton, 465 :A7ci0 Hampshire and Massachusetts Constitution, 212 Washington 212, De JFitt Clinton, 213 Beazley 213, Bulwer, 214 Joseph Neef, 448, Lesson for Schools, 400 Proposition for devoting U, S. Lands, 204 pVote. In the Contents, various subjects are classified to a great- er extent than was found convenient in printing this edition. — The authorities mentioned in the Preface have subsequently been added.] PREFACE. This is emphatically a book making' age. In addition to the accumulated stores of all by- gone ages, the Press literally deluges the read-' ing public with a flood of works of every kind :-. — arts — -sciences — letters— fictions — medleys— periodicals: — without number and without end. To read even their titles would be no trifling task ; to peruse the contents even of a single de- partment would require not only years, but lives. Amid this immensity of volumes, as far as appears from an extensive examination of libraries and catalogues, no such work as the present exists. Perhaps then the novel little book now offered to the public, will not be deem- ed obtrusive or useless. Its theme possess an all-absorbing importance, an interest, which every sense and every nerve of man must per- ceive. What is Humanity but the substance and essence of Morality, of which it is the more intelligible and expressive name? Why are Truth or Honesty 3 Justice, Temperance and ali Virtues, admired and approved, but for their being promoters of Happiness. The authorities here adduced, (as far as names are given,) are always respectable, and generally of the highest order. The work presents an array sf the most eminent Divines, Statesmen, Philosopher^ Viii PREFACE. Scholars, and Poets, giving their decided and concurring testimony in favor of General Benefi- cence Will not their united opinions tend in various ways to advance this righteous cause? May not they invite the attention and die aid of the Pulpit? furnish themes for authors and ma- terials and references for compilers, and for that popular luminary, the periodical Press? — con- vince the indifferent and reform the offending, where open argument and public reproof might be indelicate or ineffectual ? — and form the ten- der minds and cherish the sympathies of tie ris- ing generation ? In the airangement of the pieces, the order of time has been generally, but not invariably followed. In some instances, words have been omitted or altered, for the sake of brevity, per- spicuity or consistency. These verbal altera- tions, it is believed, the authors would have sanctioned and approved. When explanatory sentences or words have been added, they are enclosed in brackets [thus]. The words in italics also, are so printed in this work only ; with one or two exceptions, they were not ital- icised in the original authors. Repetitions of the same sentiment occur of course, the magni- tude of the subject particularly requires that there should be u line upon line and precept upon precept" Additions might have been made from other writers or works of sympathy and sentiment, as: Madame De Genlis, Father Bougeant, Shenstone's Pastorals, Dr. Pri man's Sermons, Burton's Lectures, Burger's Poems» Cogan's Passions, Beanies' Moral Science? PREFACE. IX Gros 5 Moral Philosophy, Darwin, Byron, Spurzheim, Buchannan's Indian Sketches^ Buck's Theological Diet. &c, &c. That the principle or practice of Humanity can ever be extended too far, is a moral impos- sibility. Men may indeed, through error of judgment, sacrifice a greater duty, to a les- ser ; their mistake should then be pointed out. In cruelty as m luxury, and other vices, custom and prejudice will vary our opinions of the pre- cise limit which should be prescribed by moral rectitude. Some sentiments contained in this book, may be deemed fastidious or whimsical by certain readers, for instance, by the sports- men. — Is there no difference between an ani- mal's suffering for several hours, the extreme ot terror, toil, and pain, or its being despatched at once? Or, between a sentient creature's linger- ing in torture for days, and at last expiring of its wounds, its young also perishing with hunger, or its being seasonably and instantly killed by the unerring aim of the rifle or fowling-piece ? Are there not sufficient sources of exercise, ex- citement and amusement, without those refine- ments in cruelty, which often render sports and barbarity synonimous? — The subsequent ex- tracts were aimed only at abuses. If however, individuals should deem allowable, any of the practices censured in this book, it is trusted that they will still, by example and influence, dis- countenance those usages which they may own to be wrong; even as the man who occasionally indulges in a moderate glass, may not willingly interpose any other obstacle to the temperance 2C PREFACE* cause. Intemperance, itself by stuptfyiftg *r' confounding the faculties of the gentle, and ex- citing the horrid passions of the brutal, is a most prolific source of cruelty. A volume would not suffice to expose the miseries and privations, which the helpless animals endure from this cause alone. The present state of society re- quires a division of occupations. If the butch- ers, drovers, drivers, &a, are not always the dispensers of kindness and comfort to the sen- sitive creatures in their charge, the blame must be fully shared by their employers and the pub- lic, who are the accessories and abettors of their criminality Is it not sufficient for man to ab- sorb the useful labors and lives of the inferior creation, without superadding excessive anguish, want and misery ? When his own cup of suffer- ing is full and over-flowing, desperate resort to revolution sometimes rids him of his cruel tor- mentors and task-masters. But of the inferior animals, generations after generations suffer and expire without any chance of relief or redress, unless it be granted by the generosity and justice of man. In a favored land of human freedom from tyranny, the Rights of Humanity have a peculiar claim on his protection, and in their be- half the united voice of the people should re- spond to the V©ice of the Peity. THE UNIVERSALITY OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. Genesis, chap. i. 20. v. And God said, let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven. 21. And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind : and God saw that it was good. 22. And God blessed them saying, be fruitful^ and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth. 25. And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth on the earth after his kind ; and God saw that it was good. 31. And God saw every thing that he had made, and behold it was very good. Chap. ix. 8 v. And God spake unto Noah and to his sons with him, saying, 9. And 1, behold I establish my covenant with you, and with your seed after you. 10. And with every living creature that is with you, of the fowl, of the cattle, and of every beast of the earth with you, from all that go out of the ark, to every beast of the earth. 15. And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you, and every living creature of all flesh ; and the waters shall no rntre feecom? a floed to destrov all flesh. Xll DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 16. And the bow shall be in the cloud, and I will look upon it, (hat I may remember the ever- lasting covenant, between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth. Exodus xxii, 4. If thou meet thine enemy's ox or his ass going astray, thou shalt surely bring it back to him again. 5. If thou sea the ass of him that hateth thee lying under his burden, and wouldest forbear to help him, thou shalt surely help with him. [See also Deut. xxii, 1, 3, 4.] 11. The seventh year thou shalt let it [the land] rest and lie still, that the poor of thy people may eat : and what they leave the beasts of the field shall eat. 12. Six days shall thou do thy work, and on the seventh day thou shalt rest : that thine ox and thine ass many rest, and the son of thine handmaid, and the stranger, may be refreshed. [See also Ex. xx, 10 ; Deut. v, 14.] Numbers xx i, 27. And when the ass saw the angel of the Lord, she fell down under Balaam : and Balaam's anger was kindled, and he smote the ass with a staff. 2^. And the Lord opened the mouth of the ass and she said unto Balaam, What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times ? 32. And the angel of the Lord said unto him, "Wherefore hast thou smitten thine ass these three times ? Behold I went out to withstand thee because thy way is perverse before me. 33. And the ass ^aw me, and turned from me these three time3 ? unless she had turned from me, DIVINE PROVIDENCE. Xlii surely now also I had slain thee, and saved her alive, Deut. xxv, 4. Thou shalt not muazle the ox when he treadeth out the corn. Psalms 1, 10. For every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand hills. 11. I know all the fowls of the mountain ; and the wild beasts of the field are mine. Ci. v. 10. He sendeth the springs among the vallies which run among the hills. 11. They give drink to every beast of the field 5 the wild asses quench their thirst. 12. By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing among the branches. 14. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle , and herb for the service of man ; that he may bring forth food out of the earth. 16. The trees of the Lord are full, the cedars ©f Lebanon which he hath planted, 17. Where the birds make their nest ; as for the stork the fir trees are her house. 18. The high hills are a refuge to the wild goats, and the rocks for the conies. 20. Thou makest darkness and it is night : wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth. 2!. The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meal from God. 24. O Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast thou made them all : the earth is full of thy riches. 25. *So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts. KlV BIVINB PROVIDENCE. 26. There go the ships ; there is that leviathau whom thou has made to play therein. 27. These wait all upon thee, that thou may est' gjve them their meat in due season. 28. That thou givest them they gather : thou openest thine hand, they are rilled with good. Chap, cxlv, 8. The Lord is gracious, and full #f compassion ; slow to anger, and of great mercy. 9. The Lord is good to all : and his tender mercies are over all his works. 15. The eyes of all wait upon thee; and thou givest them their meat in due season. 16. Thou openest thine hand, and satisfiest the desire of every living thing. Prov. chap, xi, 17. The merciful man doeth good to his own soul, but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh. Xii, 17. A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast ; but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel. Xxii, 20. Be not among wine-bibbers ; among riotous eaters of flesh. 2 1 . For the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty. [See Eccle. iii, 18, 19.] Ezekiel xxxiv, 2. Thus sayeth the Lord God unto the shepherds ; Woe be to the shepherds of Israel that do feed themselves ! should not the shep- herds feed the flocks ? 4. The diseased have ye not strengthened, neither have ye healed that which was sick, neither have ye bound up that which was broken, neither have ye brought again that which was driven away, neither have ye sought that which was lost, but wify f^rce and with cruelty have ye ruled them. DIVINE PBOVIDEITCE, S> 12. As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered ; so will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day. [See the whole chap.] Jonah ii, 7. And he caused it to be proclaim- ed, and published through IMineveh, by the decree of the king and his nobles, saying, Let neither man nor beast, herd or flock, taste any thing : let them not feed nor drink water. 8. But let man and beast be covered with sack- cloth, &c. Iv, 11, And should not I Fpare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than sixscore thou- sand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand ; and also much cattle ? St. Matthew v, 7. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. 48. Be ye therefore perfect, even as your father which is in heaven is perfect. Xii, 11. And he said unto them, What man shall there be among you, that shall have one sheep, and if it fall into a pit on the Sabbath day, will he not lay hold on it and lift it out. Xviii, 7. Woe unto the world because of offen- ces ! for it must need be that offences come ; but woe to that man by whom the offence ccmeth ! S. Luke vi, 36. Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful. Xii, 6. Are not five sparrows sold for two farth- ings? and not one of them is forgotten before God? 24. Consider the ravens ; for they neither sow nor reap ; which have neither store house nor barn| XVi DIVINE PROVIDENCE. and God feedeth them. How much more are ye better than the fowls. Xiv, 5. And [he] answered them, saying, which of you have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and will not straightway pull him out on the Sabbath day ? St. John xxi,V5. So when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon son of Jonas, lovest thou me more than these ? he sailh unto him, yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, Feed my lambs. 16. He saith unto him again the second time, Simon son of Jonas, lovest thou me ? He saith unto him, yea, Lord ; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, feed my sheep. 17. He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Peter was grieved, because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me ? And he said unto him, Lord, thou know- est all things ; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.* * [In the passages from Ezekiel. as well as in these verses, the c term sheep is allegorically and affectionately applied to the chosen people. These allusions, (on a sub- ject of higher import,) to the care and tenderness with which the flocks and herds in man's charge should be treated, as an acknowledged or self-evident duty and virtue, are more strong than any positive precepts*] THE PYTHAGORAS. Pythagoras was the inventor of the moii- ochord, and first reduced music to a science. He is supposed to have discovered the 47th prop- osition of Euclid, and to have invented the com- mon multiplication table, hence called "Abacus Pythagoricus." He also taught the true solar system, since revived by Copernicus, and de- monstrated by Newton, and also that numbers are the principles of every thing. He thought, that the whole universe was created from a shape« less heap of passive matter, by a powerful be- ing, the mover and soul of the world, of whose substance the souls of the world were a portion* He admitted the four ancient elements, or mod- ern forms of matter — fire, air, earth and water* and also, a fifth — the soul or spirit ; a subtile element, that was active in its own nature, and put the others in motion. These elements by variously combining with each other, formed the different bodies of which nature is the aggregate or assemblage. This system he derived from the sages of Egypt ; as Herodotus declares, that 2 PYTHAGORAS, they were the first assertors of the immortality, pure existence, and transmigration of human souls. Pythagoras founded the Italic school of Phil* osophy, from which arose the Eleatic, Her- aclitic> Epicurean, and Pyrrhonic ; and in con- junction with Thales, the founder of the Ionic School, he was the author of nearly all the science of Greece and of Europe, until the era of Francis Bacon. He delivered several cities of Italy and Sicily from the galling yoke of slavery ; and appeased seditions in others ; he softened the manners, and brought to temper the most anruly and savage humors of different people and different tyrants. This incomparable sage, after his long pere- grinations in search of knowledge, settled at Cro- ton in Italy, and spent the latter part of his life iu training up disciples in the rigid exercise of sublime and moral virtue, and instructing them in the true arts of government, such as alone can insure happiness, glory and indepen- dence. Under his philosophy, the Crotomtes inured their bodies to temperance and frugality, and their minds tu self command and philan- thropic disinterestedness. Many hundred per- PYTHAGORAS. 8' sons, like the Lucurgans at Sparta, gave over* their effects into a common stock, for the bene- fit of the whole community. The Pythagorean virtues were the admiration of all Greece, where it was a current proverb, that the last of the Crotonites was the first of the Greeks. In one olympiad, seven of the victors in the games, were citizens of Croton. The vigor of the men and beauty of the women, was so great, that the climate was supposed to be endowed with qualities peculiarly favorable to the human sys- tem. When the Romans (A U. C. 411,) were commanded by the Oracle at Delphi, to erect a statue to the Wisest of the Greeks, they con- ferred the honor on Pythagoras. According to his system, the purpose of phil- osophy is to free the mhid from all incumbran- ces, and elevate it to the study of immutable truth, and the knowledge of nature ; and the end of wisdom is, to assimilate the human mind to the divine, which can only be done by the practice of beneficence and tru h. This benefi- cence he extended to all animals, and the better to ensure its practice, he e>tn recomgriended to- tal abstinence from their flesh His maxims, from their intrinsic value, and their being ar 4 PYTHAGORAS. ranged in numbers, were called " Golden Verses ;" the following are a specimen : " Do that which you think to be right, what- ever the vulgar may think of you ; if you de- spise their praise, disregard also their censure. Be not intimidated by vain threats ; let them not divert you from your laudable purpose. Let uprightness influence you in all your ac- tions, and be sincere in whatever you say. Do nothing mean in the presence of others, nor in secret; but let it be your chief law, to respect yourself. It is better that others should respect you, than that they should fear you ; for esteem accompanies respect, bat fear is attended by hatred. To give a child the best education, send it to live in a well regulated state. Let youth be instructed in the best course of life, and habit will render it the most pleasant. Re- proof and correction, are only useful when ac- companied with evident marks of the affection of the parent or teacher. Sobriety or temper- ance is the real strength of mind ; for it pre- serves reason unclouded by passion. No man is free, who has not the command over himself, but submits himself to the tyranny of his pas- PYTHAGORAS, " Let not soft slumbers close your eyes, Before you've recollected thrice Your train of actions through the day, And where your thoughts have trac'd their way. 4 What have I learnt, where'er I've been. From all Fve heard, from all Fve seen ? What know I more, that's worth the knowing? What have 1 done, that's worth the doing ? What have I sought, that I should shun % What duty have I left undone ? Or into what new follies run?-' " As Pythagoras employed his influence, in urg- ing the people to the strenuous assertion of their rights against the encroachments of their tyran- nical governors ; they in revenge, raised a pow- erful opposition, and compelled him to seek an asylum in the temple of the muses at Metapon- turn, where he perished with hunger. Encyclopedia, 8fo. & SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. PLUTAECH. When we bring Plutarch to the school of Pyth- agoras, what idea shall we entertain of him ? Shall we consider him any longer as an Acade- mician, or as a citizen of the philosophical world ? Constitutionally benevolent and humane, he finds a system of divinity and philosophy per- fectly adapted to his natural sentiments. The whole animal creation he had originally looked upon with an instinctive tenderness : but when the amiable Pythagoras, the priest of nature, in defence of the common privileges of her crea- tures, had called religion into their cause ; when he sought to soften the cruelty which man had exercised agamst them, by the honest art of in- sinuating the doctrine of transmigration, how could Plutarch refuse to serve under him % It was impossible. He adopted the doctrine of the Metempsychosis. He entered into the merciful scheme of Pythagoras ; and like him diverted the cruelty of the human species, by appealing to the selfish qualities of 'their nature, by subdu- ing their pride, and exciting their sympathy, while he showed them that their future exis- tence might be the condition of a reptile. PLUTAR6H. 7 This spirit and disposition break strongly from him, in his observations on the Elder (ate. And as nothing can exhibit a more lively picture of him than these paintings of his own, we shall not scruple to introduce them here : " For my part, I cannot but charge his using his servants like so many beasts of burthen, and turning them off or selling them when grown old, to the ac- count of a mean and ungenerous spirit, which thinks that the sole tie between man and man is interest or necessity. But goodness moves in a larger sphere than justice; the obligations of law aud equity reach only to mankind, but mercy and beneficence should be extended to creatures of every species ; and these still flow from the breast of a well-natured man, as streams that issue from a copious fountain. A good man will take care of his horses and dogs, not only while they are young, but when old and past service. Thus the people of Athens, when they had finish- ed the temple called Hecatompedon, set at lib- erty the beasts of burthen that had been chiefly employed in the work, suffering them to pasture at large, free from any farther service. It is said that one of these subsequently came of its own accord to work, and placing itself at the head of the labouring cattle 5 marched before them to the 8 PLUTARCI*. citadel. This pleased the people 5 and they made a decree, that it should be kept at the public charge so long as it lived. The graves of Cimon's mares, with which he thrice conquered at the Olympic games, are still to be seen near his own tomb. Many have shown particular marks of regard in burying the dogs which they have brought up and cherished ; and among the rest Xantippus of old, whose dog swam by the side of his galley to Salamis, when the Atheni- ans were forced to abandon their city, and was afterwards buried by his master upon a promon- tory, to this day called the " Dog's Grave. 7 * We certainly ought not to treat living creatures like shoes or household goods, which, when worn out with use, we throw away ; and, were it only to teach benevolence to human kind, we should be tender and merciful to other creatures. For my own part, I would not sell even an old ox that had laboured for me ; much less would I ban- ish, as it were, for the sake of a little money, a man grown old in my service, from his usual place and accustomed diet ; since he could be of no more use to the buyer than he was to the seller. But Cato, as if he took a pride in these things, informs us that when consul he left his war-horse in Spain, to save the public the charge of his PLUTARCH. 9 freight Whether such things as these are in- stances of greatness or littleness of soul, let the reader judge for himself !" What an amiable idea of our benevolent philos- opher ! How worthy the instruction of the Sage of Samos ! How honorable to that master of truth and universal science, whose sentiments were decisive in every doubtful matter, and whose maxims were received with silent convic- tion ! Wherefore should we wonder to find Plutarch more particularly attached to the opinions of this illustrious man ? Whether we consider the im- mensity of his erudition, or the benevolence of his system, the motives for that attachment were equally powerful. Pythagoras had collected all the stores of human learning, and had reduced them to one rational and useful body of science. Like our glorious Bacon, he led Philosophy forth from the jargon of schools and the fopperies of sects. He made her what she was originally designed to be, the handmaid of nature ; friend- ly to her creatures, and faithful to her laws. Whatever knowledge could be gained by human industry, by the most extensive inquiry and ob- servation, he had every opportunity to obtain.. The priests of Egypt unfolded to him their mys ■• 10 PLUTARGH. teries and their learning : they led him througk the records of the remotest antiquity, and opened all those stores of science that had been amas- sing through a multitude of ages. The Magi of Persia co-operated with the priests of Egypt in his instruction. They taught him those higher parts of science by which they were themselves so much distinguished, astronomy and the sys- tem of the universe. The laws of moral life, and the institutions of civil societies, with their several excellences and defects, he learned from the various states and establishments of Greece* Thus accomplished, when he came to dispute in the Olympic contests, he was considered as a prodigy of wisdom and learning; but when the choice of his title was left to him, he modestly declined the appellation of a u wise man," and was contented to be called " a lover of wisdom" or " Philosopher." Lan gliomas. * TO PLUTARCH. 7ROM THE GREEK OF A^ATHIAS. Wise, honest Plutarch ! to thy deathless praise, The sons of Rome, this grateful statue raise ; Because both Greece and Rome thy fame have shar'd, Their heroes written, and their lives compared. But thou thyself couldst never write thy own ; Their lives had parallels— but thine has none. DRYDEN. PLUTARCH. 1! (Sreat PluTxI&ch shines, by moral beauty knoAvc, First of thy votaries, peerless and alone, Oh blest Biography ! whose charms of yore, Historic Truth to strong Affection bore. And fostering Virtue gave thee as thy dower,, Of both thy parents the attractive power ; To win the heart, the wavering thought to fix. And fond delight with wise instruction mix. Enchanting Sage ! whose living lessons teach What heights of virtue, h;nnan efforts reach. Tho ? oft thy pen, eccentrically wild, Ramble, in Learning's various maze beguil'd,, Thy ev'ry page is uniformly bright With mild Philanthropy's diviner light. Of gentlest manners, as of mind elate, Thy happy Genius had the glorious fate To regulate, with Wisdom's just control, The strong ambition of a Trajan's soul. But oh ! how rare benignant virtue springs In the blank bosom of despotic kings. HAYLEY. 12 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. THE HINDOOS. FTindostan contains, at least, sixty millions of inhabitants ; the language of its philosophers, the Shanscrit, is systematic and inferior only to the Greek. The following extracts afford some account of this ancient and immense people, who, despite their absurd customs and degrad- ing superstitions, have by an enlightened policy and practice, like the Pythagoreans, interwoven with their religion, laws and manners, the duty of justice and kindness to all sentient beings. The Hindoos are all very scrupulous with re- gard to their diet, but the Bramins much more so, than any of the rest — which we are told by Porphyry and Clemens Alexandrinus, was the case in their time. Their ordinary food is rice and other vegetables, seasoned with ginger and other spices. The food which they most esteem is milk, as coming from the cow ; and it is enact- ed in the Gentoo Laws, that any one, who exacts labor from a bullock that is hungry or thirsty, or shall oblige him to labor when fatigued, or out of season, is liable to be fined by the magis- trates. The other casts, though less rigid, ab- stain verv religoasly from what is forbidden HINDOOS. 13 them ; though they may eat some kinds of fish and flesh ; yet it is accounted a virtue to abstain from them all. None of them are allowed t© taste intoxicating liquor of any kind. All the Hindoo sects believe in the immortality ©f the soul, a state of future rewards and punish- ments, and transmigration. According to Bishop Wilkins, many of them believe that this world is a state of rewards and punishments, as well as of probation, and that the fate of man, his good and bad fortune is the necessary effect of good and evil actions committed in former states of existence. They all seem to worship fire, or at , least pay a great veneration to it. Charity and hospitality are inculcated in the strongest man« ner, and exist among them, not only in theory, but in practice. They say that " Hospitality is commanded to be exercised even towards an enemy, when he cometh into thine house ; the tree doth not withdraw its shade even from the wood cutter. Good men extend their charity even to the vilest animals. The moon doth not withhold her light even from the Chandala or vilest people. Truth, contentment, patience, and mercy, belong to great minds. The good exercise compassion by making the case of oth 14 HINDOOS. ers their own. Good derived from evil (£ e. obtained by evil means,) is not good. The vis- ion of the eyes is not sight ; but he is blest with sight, who possesses knowledge; the ignorant are the blind. The contented are always happy ; the discontented, never." According to the Hindoo doctrine of future punishment, the unmerciful are to be tormented by snakes, wasps, &c. ; he who kills a man, and offers him to the Gods ; and he who devours any animal, unless he has slain it in sacrifice, are to be fed on flesh and blood. The glutton who has been guilty of wantonly torturing and destroy- ing animals, is to be thrown into a hell of boil- ing oil; the covetous are to be fed with impure substances. Their pure doctrines are mixed however with many vague superstitions. A- singularity in their religion is, that so far from persecuting those of a contrary persuasion, which is too of- ten the case with other professions, they even re- fuse to admit a proselyte. In ordinary life they are cheerful and lively, lo d of conversation and amusements. When they write upon paper they use a small ieed. Though naturally mild and timid, they often meet death with the most HINDOOS. 35 heroic intrepidity The Hindoo, at the point of death, talks of his decease with the utmost com- posure, and if near the Ganges, will be carried out that he may expire on its banks. In many instances, both in ancient and modern times, these people have been known, when closely be- seiged by an overpowering enemy, to kill their wives and children in order to save them from the foe, set fire to their houses, and then rush violently upon their adversaries until every one perished. In the late war, some seapoys in the British service, having been concerned in a mutiny, were condemned to be biown away from the mouth of a cannon. Their grenadiers cried out that they had all along had the post of honor, and they did not see why they should be denied it now* and therefore desired that they might be blown away first. This being granted they walk ed forward to the gun with composure, begged that they might be spared the indignity ©f being tied, and placing their breasts close to the muzzle, were shot away. 1 he commanding of- ficer was so much affected with this degree of he- roism, that he pardoned all the rest. Their cus- tom of burning or burying alive the widows with tne body of their deceased husbands, is 16 HINDOOS. not enjoined by law. It is, however, consid- ered proper and praise worthy, and practised mostly by ladies of the higher rank, and prob- ably caused by an overwrought but perverted enthusiasm of love and fortitude. The faithful enthusiasts, who choose to devote themselves to this dreadful death, suffer with the greatest con- stancy. EncyclojJedia. THE BRAMIN. Through the wide universe's boundless range. All that exist, decay, revive and change ; No atom torpid or inactive lies ; A being, once created never dies. The waning moon, when quench'd in shades of night, Renews her youth with all the charms of light; The flowery beauties of the blooming year Shrink from the shivering blast and disappear ; Yet warm'd with quickening showers of genial rain, Spring from their graves, and purple all the plain, As day the night, and night succeeds the day, So death reanimates, so lives decay : Like billows on the undulating main, The swelling fall, the falling swell again ; Thus on the tide of time, inconstant, roll The dying body and the living soul. HIND©OS. J? In every animal, inspired with breath, The flowers of life produce the seeds of death ; — The seeds of death, though scatter'd in the tomb, Spring with new vigour, vegetate and bloom. All that inhabit ocean, air, or earth, From one eternal sire derive their birth. The hand that built the palace of the sky, Form'd the light wings that decorate a fly : The Power, that wheels the circling planets round. Rears every infant floweret on the ground ; That Bounty, which the mightiest beings share. Feeds the least gnat that gilds the evening air. Thus all the wild inhabitants of woods, Children of air and "tenants of the floods; All, all are equal, independent, free, And all are heirs of immortality ! Ah! then refrain your brethren's blood to spill, And, till you can create, forbear to kill! Oft as a guiltless fellow-creature dies, The blood of innocence for vengeance cries: Even grim, rapacious savages of prey, Presume not, save in self defence, to slay ; What, tho' to heaven their forfeit lives they owe, Hath heaven commission^ thee to deal the blow? Montgomery, 18 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. If the happiness of all mankind, as much as in each lies, were every one's persuasion, as in- deed it is every one's duty, and the true prin- ciple to regulate our religion, politics and mor- ality by, the world would be much quieter and better natured than it is. Some children, when they have possession of any poor creature, are apt to use it ill; they of- ten torment and treat very roughly, young birds, butterflies, and such other poor animals as fall into their hands, and that with a seeming kind of pleasure. This should be watched in them, and if they incline to any such cruelty, they should be taught the contrary usage, for the cus- tom of tormenting and killing of beasts will by degrees harden their minds even towards men, and they who delight in the suffering and de- struction of inferior creatures, will not be apt to be very complacent or benign to those of their own kind. Our [English law] practice takes notice of this, in the exclusion of butchers from juries of life and death. Children should from the beginning be bred up in an abhorrence of THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 19 killing [needlessly,] and of tormenting any liv- ing creature, and be taught not to spoil or de- stroy any tiling, unless it be for the preservation or advantage of some other that is nobler. I cannot but commend both the kindness and the prudence of a mother I knew, who was wont al- ways to indulge her children, when any of them desired dogs, squirrels, birds, or any such things young children use to be delighted with ; but then, when they had them, they must be sure to keep them well, and look diligently after them, that they wanted nothing, or were- not ill used, for if they were negligent in their care of the animals, it was accounted a great fault, which often forfeited their possession, or at least they failed not to be rebuked for it, whereby they were really taught diligence and good nature. Indeed, people should be accustomed from their cradles, to be tender to all sensible creatures, and to spoil or waste nothing. Mischief means the spoiling of any thing to no purpose, but more especially the pleasure of putting any thing to pain that is capable of it; the delight they take in doing this, I cannot persuade myself to be any other than a foreign and acquired disposi- tion ; a habit bred from custom and conversa- tion. People teach children to strike and laugh £0 THOUGHTS OlS EDUCATION. when they hurt, or see harm come to others ; and they have the examples of most about them to confirm them in it. The entertainment of talk and history, consists principally of fighting and killing, and the honor and renown that is be- stowed on conquerors, (who for the most part are the great butchers of mankind,) further mis- Jead growing youths, who by this means come to think slaughter the laudable business of man- kind, and the most heroic of virtues. By these steps, unnatural cruelty is planted in us, and what humanity abhors, custom reconciles and recommends to us by laying it in the way to hon- or. Thus by fashion and opinion, that comes to be a pleasure which in itself, neither is nor can be any. This ought carefully to be watched and early to be remedied, so as to instil and cherish the contrary and more natural temper of benig- nity and compassion in the room of it, but still bv the same gentle method. The mischief or harms that come by play, in- advertency or ignorance, and were not known to be harms or designed for mischief's sake, though they may perhaps be sometimes of considerable damage, yet are not at all, or but very gently to be noticed. For it cannot be too often inculcat- ed, that whatever misconduct a child is guilty of. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 21 and whatever may be its consequence, the thing to be regarded in taking notice of it, is only what root it sprung from and what habit it is likely to establish ; and to that the correction ought to be directed, and the child not to suffer any punishment for any harm which may have come by his play or inadvertency ; the faults to be amended lie in the mind, and if they are such as either age will cure, or no ill habit will follow, the present action, whatever displeasing circum- stance it may have, is to be passed by without any animadversion. Another way to instil sentiments of humanity and keep them lively, will be to accustom them to civility in their language and deportment to all, particularly towards inferiors, servants, &c. If they are suffered from their cradle to treat men ill and rudely, because by their fathers wealth, they think they have,, a little power over them, at best it is ill bred, and if care be not taken, will by degrees nurse up their natural pride, into an habitual contempt of those be- neath them, and where will that probably end but in oppression and cruelty ? We ought not to encroach upon truth in any conversation, but least of all with children, since if we play false with them, we not only deceive 22 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION, their expectations and hinder their knowledgt but corrupt their innocence, and by example* teach them the worst of vices. They easily perceive when they are slighted or deceived, and quickly learn the trick of neglect, dissimulation and falsehood, which they observe made use of by others. John Locke, MERCY. The quality of Mercy is not strainM ; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heav'n, Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless'd ; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes : ? Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown. His sceptre shows the force of temporal power. But mercy is above this scepter'd sway. It is an atribute of God himself ; And earthly power doth then show iikest God's, When mercy seasons justice — we do pray for mercy ; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render Th« deeds of mere v. Shakespeare. SPIRIT OF HUMANITY, 23 ISAAC NEWTON ; Of persecution he always expressed the strongest abhorrence and detestation. He was exceedingly shocked at any act of cruelty to man or beast ; mercy to both being the topic on which he delighted to dwell.— Thomson's history of Royal Society of London. His temper is said to have been so equal and mi id, that, no accident could disturb it. Of this the following remarkable instance is relat- ed : Sir Isaac had a favorite dog which he call- ed Diamond, and being one day called out of his study into the next room, Diamond was left behind ; when Sir Isaac returned, having been absent but a few minutes, he had the mortifica- tion to rind, that Diamond having thrown down a lighted candle among some papers, the nearly finished labor of many years, was in flames, and almost consumed to ashes. This loss, as Sir Isaac was then very far advanced in years, was irretrievable ; yet without once striking the dog, he only rebuked him with this exclamation. 6< Oh ! Diamond ! Diamond ! thou little knowesr the mischief thou hast done!" Encyclopedia Brittannica* 24 SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. "The essay of bloody feasts on brutes began. And after, forged the sword to murder man." I cannot think it extravagant to imagine, that mankind are no less, in proportion, account- able for the ill use of their dominion over crea- tures of the lower rank of beings, than for the exercise of tyranny over their own species. The more entirely the inferior creation is sub- mitted to our power, the more answerable we should seem for our mismanagement of it ; and the rather, as the very condition of nature ren- ders these creatures incapable of receiving any recompence in another life for their ill-treatment in this. It is observable of those noxious animals, which hapve qualities most powerful to injure us ? that they naturally avoid mankind, and never hurt us unless provoked, or necessitated by hun- ger. Man, on the other hand, seeks out and pursues even the most inoffensive animals, on purpose to persecute and destroy them. Montaigne thinks it some reflection upon hu- man nature itself, that few people take delight CRUELTY TO ANIMALS, 25 •in seeing beasts caress or play together, but al- most every one is pleased to see them lacerate and worry one another, I am sorry this tem- per is become almost a distinguishing character of our nation, from the observation which is made by foreigners of our beloved pastimes, bear-beating, cock-fighting, and the like. We should find it hard to vindicate the destroying- of any thing that has life, merely out of wanton- ness ; yet in this principle our children are bred up, and one of the first pleasures we allow them, is the licence of inflicting pain upon poor animals : Almost as soon as we are sensible what life is ourselves, we make it out sport te take it from other creatures. I cannot but be- lieve a very good use might be made of the fancy which children have for birds and insects. Mr. Locke takes notice of a mother who permitted them to her children, but rewarded or punished them as they treated them well or ill. This was no other than entering them betimes into a daily exercise of humanity, and improving their very diversion to a virtue. I fancy too, .some advantage might be taken of the common notion, that it is ominous and unlucky to destroy some sorts of birds, as swal- lows or martins. This opinion might possibly 26 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. arise from the confidence these birds seem to put in us, by building under our roofs, so that it is a kind of violation of the laws of hospitality to murder them. As for robin-red-breasts in par- ticular, it is not improbable they owe their se- curity to the old ballad of The Children in the Wood. However it be, I dont know, I say, why this prejudice, well improved and carried as far as it would go, might not be made to conduce to the preservation of many innocent creatures, which are now exposed to all the wantonness of an ignorant barbarity. There are other animals that have the misfor- tune, for no manner of reason, to be treated as common enemies, wherever found. The conceit that a cat has nine lives, has cost at least nine lives- in ten of the whole race of them ; scarce a boy in the streets but has in this point outdone Hercules himself who was famous for killing a monster, that had but three lives. Whether the unaccountable animosity against this useful do- mestic, may be any cause of the general perse- cution of owls, (who are a sort of feathered cats,) or whether it be only an unreasonable pique the moderns have taken to a serious countenance, I shall not determine. Though I am inclined to Relieve the former, since I observe the sole rea- csOjslty to animals. 27 son alleged for the destruction of frogs is because they are like toads, Yet, amidst all the misfor- tunes of these unfriended creatures, it is some happiness that we have not yet taken a fancy to eat them : For should our countrymen refine up- on the French never so little, it is not to be con- ceived to what unheard-of torments, owls, cats, and frogs may be yet reserved. When we grow up to men, we have another succession of sanguinary sports ; in particular, hunting. I dare not attack a diversion which has such authority and custom to support it ; but must have leave to be of opinion, that the agita- tion of that exercise, with the example and num- ber of the chasers, not a little contributes to re- sist those checks, which compassion would natu- rally suggest in behalf of the animal pursued. Nor shall I say with Monsieur Fleury, that this sport is a remain of the Gothic barbarity ; but I must animadvert upon a certain custom yet in use with us, and barbarous enough to be derived from the Goths, or even the Scythians, I mean that savage compliment our huntsmen pass upon ^adies of quality who are present at the death of a stag, when they put the knife in their hands to cut the throat of a helpless, trembling, and weeping creature. S8 CTtUELTY TO ANIMALS. But if our sports ar^ destructive, our gluttony is more so, and in a more inhuman manner. Lobsters roasted alive, pigs whipped to death, fowls sewed up, are testimonies of our outrage- ous luxury. Those who (as Seneca expresses it) divide their lives betwixt an anxious con- science, and a nauseated stomach, have a just reward of their gluttony in the diseases it brings with it: For human savages, like other wild beasts, find snares and poison in the provisions of life, and are allured by their appetite to their destruction. I know nothing more shocking, or horrid, than the prospect of one of their kitchens covered with blood, and filled with the cries of creatures expiring in tortures. It gives one an image of a giant's den in a romance, bestrewed with the scattered heads and mangled limbs of those who were slain by his cruelty. The excellent Plutarch (who has more strokes of good-nature in his writings than I remember in any author) cites a saying of Cato to this ef- fect : " That it is no easy task to preach to the belly which has no ears. Yet if ' y says he " we are ashamed to be so out of fashion as not to of- fend, let us at least offend with some discretion and measure, If we kill an animal for our pro- vision, let us do it with the meltings of compos- GRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 29 sion, and without tormenting it. Let us con- sider, that it is in its own nature cruelty to put a living creature to death; we at least destroys soul that has sense and perception." In the life ofCatothe Censor, he takes occasion, from the • severe disposition of that man, to discourse m this manner. "It ought to be esteemed a hap- piness to mankind, that our humanity has a wider sphere to exert itself in than bare justice. It is no more than the obligation of our very birth to practice equity to our own kind ; but humanity may be extended through the whole order of creatures, even to the meanest ; such actions ol c4iarity are the overflowings of a mild good na- ture on all below us. It is certainly the part of a well-natured man to take care of his horses and dogs, not only in expectation of their labour while they are foals and whelps, but even when their old age has made them incapable of ser- vice." History tells us of a wise and polite nation, that rejected a person of the first quality, who stood for a judiciary office, only because he had been observed in his youth to take pleasure in tearing and murdering of birds. And of another, that expelled a man out of the senate for dash- ing a bird against the ground which had take** 30 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. shelter in his bosom. Every one knows how remarkable the Turks are for their humanity in this kind. I remember an Arabian author, who has written a treatise to show, how far a man, supposed to have subsisted in a desert island, without any instruction, or so much as the sight of any other man, may, by the pure light of na- ture, attain the knowledge of philosophy and virtue. One of the first things he makes him observe, is that universal benevolence of nature in the protection and preservation of its crea- tures. In imitation of which, the first act of virtue his self-taught philosopher would of course fall into, is, to relieve and assist all the animals about him in their wants and distresses. Ovid has some very tender and pathetic lines applicable to this occasion ; [he represents Pythagoras as thus speaking :] The sheep was sacrificed on no pretence But meek and unresisting innocence. A patient, useful creature, born to bear The warming fleece, that cloth'd her murderer ; The cow that daily gave the milk she bred, A tribute for the grass on which she fed ; Living, our food or raiment, they supply, Are they of more advantage when they die ? CRUELTY TO ANIMALS, 31 How did the toiling ox his death deserve? A downright honest drudge, and born to serve. Oh tyrant! with what justice can'st thou hope The promise of the year, a plenteous crop, When thou destroy'st thv laboring steer who till'd [field ! And plough'* d with pains thy else unyielding From his yet reeking neck to draw the yoke, That neck, with which the surly clods he broke ; And to the hatchet yield thy husbandman, Who finished autumn, and the spring began ! What more advance can mortals make in sin, So near perfection, who with blood begin! Deaf to the calf that lies beneath the knife, Looks up, and from her butcher begs her life* Deaf to the harmless Kid, that ere he dies, All methods to secure thy mercy tries : And imitates in vain the children's cries. Dry den? s Ovid. Perhaps that voice or cry so nearly resem- bling the human, with which Providence has en- dowed so many different animals, might pur- posly be given them to move our pity, and pre- vent those cruelties we are too apt to inflict on our fellow creatures. There is a passage in the book of Jonas, when God declares his unwillingness to destrov S2 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. Nineveh, where methinks, that compassion of the Creator, which extends to the meanest rank of his creatures, is expressed with wonderful tenderness. — Should I not spare Nineveh the great city, wherein are more than sixscore thous- and persons — -and also much cattle ? And we have in Deuteronomy a precept of great good nature of this sort, with a blessing in form an- nexed to it, in those words : If thou shalt find a bird's nest in the way, thou shalt not take the dam with the young : but thou shalt in any wise let the dam go, that it may be well with thee, and that thou mayst prolong thy days. To conclude, there is certainly a degree of gratitude owing to those animals that serve us; as for such as are mortal or noxious, we have a right to destroy them ; and of those that are neither of advantage or prejudice to us, the common enjoyment of life is what I cannot think we ought to deprive them of. The whole matter with regard to each of these considerations, i& set in a very agreeable light in one of the Persian fables of Pilpay, with which 'I shall end this paper, A traveller passing through a thicket, and seeing a few sparks of a fire which some passen- gers had kindled as they went that way before* CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 33 made up to it, On a sudden the sparks caught hold of a bush, in the midst of which lay an ad- der, and set it in flames. The adder entreated the. traveller's assistance, who tying a bag to the end of his staff, reached it, and drew him oat : He then bid him go where he pleased, but never more be hurtful to men, since he owed his life to a man's compassion. The adder, however, prepared to sting him, and when he expostulat- ed how unjust it was to retaliate good with evil, a I shall do no more" said the adder " than what you men practise every day, whose custom it is to requite benefits with ingratitude. If you can deny this truth, let us refer it to the first we meet." The man consented, and seeing a tree, put the question to it, in what manner a good turn was to be recompensed ? "If you mean according to the usage of men," replied the tree, " by its contrary I have been standing here these hundred years to protect them from the scorching s,un, and in requital they have cut down my branches, and are going to saw my body into planks." Upon this the adder insult* ing the man, hp appealed to a second evidence, which was granted, and immediately they met a cow. The same demand was made, and much t\\Q same answer given, that among men it wa$ 34 GRUELTY TO ANIMALS, certainly so: "I know it" said the cow "by woeful experience ; for I have served a man this long time with milk, butter and cheese, and brought him besides a calf every year, but now I am old, he turns me into this pasture, with design to sell me to a butcher, who will shortly make an end of me." The traveller upon this stood confounded, but desired of courtesy one trial more, to be finally judged by the next beast they should meet. This happened to be the fox, who, upon hearing the story in all its circumstances, could not be persuaded it was possible for the adder to get into so narrow a bag. The adder to convince him, « ent in again ; the fox told the man he had now his enemy in his power ; and with that he fastened the bag, and crushed him to pieces. Pope. [This fable is a severe, but true satire on man. A ve.emous animal, about to sting him with in- gratitude, pleads in excuse man's own example. While in its power he consents to refer the case to others. The first evidence is decidedly against the man, the next also, is equally strong, and at last he, aided by the fraud of a beast of proverbial, or rather fabled duplicity, entraps and destroys his imitator.] SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 35 ESSAY ON MAN. Think not, in Nature's state, man blindly trod ? The state of nature was the reign of G>d ; t Self-love and social at her birth began. Union the bond of all things, and of man. Pride then was not ; nor arts that pride to aid : Man walk'd with beast, joint-tenant of the shade; The same his table, and the same his bed ; No murder cloth'd him, and no murder fed. In the same temple, the resounding wood, Ail vocal beings hymn'd their equal God: The shrine with gore unstainM,with gold undrest. Unbrib'd, unbloody, stood the blameless priest : HeavVs attribute was universal care, Aid man's prerogative, to rule, but spare. Ah ! how unlike the man of times to come ! Of half that live, the butcher, and the tomb: Who, foe to nature, hears the gen'ral groan. Murders their species, and betrays his own. But just disease to luxury succeeds, And ev'ry death its own avenger breeds ; The fury passions from that blood began, And turn'd on man a fiercer savage, man. j tJ6 ESSAY ON MAN. Remember, man, "the Universal cause " Acts not by partial but by gen'ral laws ;' ; And makes what happiness we justly call, Subsist not in the good of one, but all. Thus Reason, Passion, answer one great aim, And true self love and social are, the same. Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words, Health, Peace and Com- petence. But health consists in temperance alone ; And peace, oh virtue ! peace is all thy own. What's the advantage prosp'rous vice attains? 7 Tis but what virtue flies from, or disdains. Virtue's the point where human bliss does still Enjoy the good without the fall to ill ; Where only merit constant pay receives, Is blest in what it takes, and what it jfives ; The joy unequall'd, if its end it gain, And if it lose, attended with no pain : Without satiety, though e'er so bless'd, And but more relish'd as the more distress'd^ The broadest mirth unfeeling Folly wears, Less pleasing far than Virtue's very tears : Good, from each object, from each place ac- quir'd, For ever exercis'd, yet never tir'd ; JSTever elated, while one man's oppressed ESSAY ON MAN. 37 Never dejected, while another's bless'd ; And where no wants, no wishes can remain, Since but to wish more virtue is to gain. Self-love thus push'd to social, to divine, Gives thee to make thy neighbor's blessing thine. Is this to little for thy boundless heart ? Extend it, let thy enemies have part ; Grasp the whole worlds of reason, life, and sense^ In one close system of benevolence : Happier as kinder in what'er degree, And height of bliss but height of charity. God loves from whole to parts ; but human soui Must rise from individual to the wlioie. Self love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake 5 The centre mov'd, a circle straight succeeds, Another still, and still another spreads ; Child, partner, parent, first it will embrace, Friend, kinsman, neighbor, in their turn take place, Our country next, and next all human race ; Wide and more wide, the overflowings of the mind Take every creature in of every kind ; [blest, Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty And heav'n beholds its image in man's breast. Pope* 3S SPIRIT OF HUMANITY, UJNCLE TOBY. My uncle Toby was a man patient of injuries ; not from want of courage, where just occasions presented, or cailed it forth. I know no man under whose arm I would sooner have taken shelter ; nor did this arise from any insensibility or obtuseness of his intellectual parts. lie was of a peaceful placid nature, no jarring element in it; all was mixed up so ki>?dly within him r my uncle Toby had scarce a heart to retaliate on a fly. " G .>," says he one day at dinner to an overgrown one which had buzzed about his nose, and tormented him most cruelly all dinner time, and which after infinite attemps, he had eaught at last, as it flew by him, " HI not hurt thee," says my uncle Toby, rising from his chair and going across the room, with the fly in his hand, " I'll not hurt a hair of thy head ; do,' says he, lifting up the sash and opening his hand as he spoke, to let it escepe, "go poor fellow, gc-t thee gone, why should I hurt thee ? This world, surely, is wide enough to hold both thee and me. # # # This is ro serve for parents and governors, instead of a whole volume upon the subject. Sterne. SPIRIT OF HUMANITY* 39 THE CAPTIVE. Beshrew the sombre pencil ! said I, vaunting- !y — for I envy not its powers, which paints the evils of life with so hard and deadly a colouring. The mind sits terrified at the obje.cts she has magnified herself, and blackened : reduce them to their proper size and hue, she overlooks them. ? Tis true, said I, correcting the proposition— the Bastile is not an evil to be despised — but strip it of its towers — fill up the fosse — unbarricade the doors — call it simply a confinement and suppose it is some tyrant of a distemper — and npt a nmn — which holds you in it — the evil vanishes and you bear the other half without com pa int. I was interrupted in the heyday of this solilo- quy, with a voice which I took to be a child's, which complained " it could not get out." 1 looked up and down the passage, and seeing neither man, women, or child, I went out with- out further attention. In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over ; and looking up, I saw it was a starling ha ging in a little cage — "I can't get out — I can't get out, ;? said the starling. 40 THE CAPTIVE. I stood looking at the bird ; and to every per- son who came through the passage, it ran flut- tering to the side toward which they approached it, with the same lamentation of its captivity — '•' I can't get out," said the starling — " God help thee !" said T, " but I will let thee out, cost what it will ;" so I turned about the cage to get at the door; it was twisted and double twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open without pulling the cage to pieces — I took both hands to it. The bird flew to the place where I was attempt- ing his deliverance, and thursting his head through the trellis, pressed his breast against it, as if impatient, — " I fear, poor creature P 7 said I " I cannot set thee at liberty"—" No," said the starling, "I can't get out, I can't get out." I vow I never had my affections more tenderly awakened ; nor do I remember an incident in my life, where the dissipated spirits, to which my reason had been a bubble, were so suddenly called home. Mechanical as the notes were, yet, so true in tune to nature were they ehaunt- ed, that in one moment they overthrew all my systematic reasonings upon the Bastile ; and I heavily walked up stairs, unsaying every word I had said in going down them. Till] CAPTIVE. 4! " Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still. Slave- ry," said 1, " still thou art a bitter draught ! and though thousands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no iess bitter on that ac- count. — 'Tis thou thrice sweet and graciaus god- dess, Liberty ! whom all in public oi in private worship, whose taste is grateful, and e\er will be so< till Nature herself shall change — no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle, 01 chymic power turn thy sceptre into iron — with thee to sn i e upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. — Gracious heaven ! grant me but health, thou great Bestower of it, and give me but this fair goddess as my companion — and shower down thy mitres, if it seems good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are aching for them. • The bird in his cage pursued me into my room ; I sat down close by my table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure to my- self the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, so I gave full scope to my im- agination. I was going to begin with the millions of my fellow-creatures born to no inheritance but slave- ry ; but finding, however affecting the picture 42 THE CAPTIVE. was, that I could not bring it near me, and tbat the multitude of sad groups in it did but distract me — I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to take his picture. I beheld his body half wasted away with long expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the heart it was which arises from hope deferred. — Upon looking nearer, I saw him pale and feverish : — in thirty years the wes- tern breeze had not once fanned his blood — he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that rime — nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breath- ed through his lattice: — his children — But here my heart began to bleed — and I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait. He was sitting upon the grouud upon a little straw, in the furthest corner of his dungeon, which was alternately his chair and bed ; a lit- tle calendar of small sticks were laid at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had passed there — he had one of these little slicks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the PLEASURES OF THB IMAGINATION. 43 heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down — shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard the chains upon his legs, as he turned his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. — He gave a dee\) sigh — I saw the iron enter into his soul — I burst into tears — I could not sustain the picture of confine- ment which my fancy had drawn. Sterne. PLEASURES OF THE IMAGINATION. There most conspicuous doth beauty dwell? Where dawns the high expression of the minds By steps conducting our enraptur'd search To that eternal Origin, whose pow'r Through all tii' unbounded symmetry of things, Like rays effulgiug from the parent sun, This endless mixture of her charms diffused. Mind, Mind alone, bear witness earth and heav'n! The living fountains in itself contains Of beauteous and sublime. Is ought so' fair, In all the dewy landscapes of the spring, In the bright eye of Hesper or the morn, In nature's fairest forms is aught so fair As graceful tears that stream for other's woes 44 PLEASURES OF THE IMAGINATION. In virtuous sympathy? — The candid blush. Of him vho strives with fortune to be just? Or the mild majesty of private life, Where peace .with ever blooming olive crowns The gate; where honor's liberal hands effuse Unenvied treasures, and the snowy wings Of innocence and love protect the scene. — The forms which brute unconscious matter wears Greatness of bull; or symmetry of parts, Not reaching to the heart, soon feeble grows Their superficial impulse, dull their charms. Not so the moral species, nor the pow'rs Of genius and design : th' ambitious mind, Well-pleasM, there sees herself. For of all Th' inhabitants of earth, to man alone, Creative wisdom gave to lift his eye To Truth's eternal measures ; Thence to frame The sacred laws of action and of will, Discerning Justice from unequal deeds, And Temperance from Folly, But beyond This energy of truth whose dictates bind Assenting reason, the benignant sire, To deck the honor'd path of just and good, Has added bright imagination's rays ; Where virtue rises from the awful depth Of truth's mysterious- bosom, and attracts With charms responsive to each kindred hope. PLEASURES OP THE IMAGINATION. 45 The ingenious mind of man. Not a breeze Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes The setting sun's effulgence, not a strain From all the tenants of the warbling shade Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Fresh pleasure freely ; for the attentive mmd By this harmonious action on her powers, Becomes herself harmonious.— Would the forms Of servile custom cramp her gen'rous pow'rs?- Would sordid policies, the barbarous growth Of ignorance and rapine, bow her down To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear ? Lo ! she appeals to Nature ; to the winds And rolling waves, the sun's unwearied course, The elements and seasons : all declare For what the eternal maker has ordain 'd The powers of man : we feel within ourselves His energy divine ; he tells the heart, He meant, he made us to behold and love What he beholds and loves, the general orb Of life and being ; to be great like him, Beneficent and active, Akmside.^ 4§ SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. The better sort of people pretend to the ut- most compassion for animals of every kinde To hear them speak, a stranger would be apt to imagine they could hardly hart the gnat that stung them ; they seem so tender and so full of pity, that one, would take them for the harmless friends of the whole creation ; the protectors of the meanest insect or reptile that was priviledg- ed with existence, And yet, would you believe it, I have seen the very men who have thus boast- ed of their tenderness, at the same time devour- ing the flesh of six different animals tossed up in a fricassee. Strange contrariety of conduct ; they pity, and they eat the objects of their com- passion. The lion roars with terror over its cap- tive ; the tyger sends forth its hideous shriek to intimidate its prey ; no creature shews any fond- nesss for its short lived prisoner, except a man and a cat. Man was born to live with innocence and sim- plicity, but he has deviated from nature ; he was born to share the bounties of heaven, but he has monopolized them ; he was born to c° CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 4f era the brute creation, but he has become their tyrant. If an epicure now should happen to surfeit on his last night's feast, twenty animals the next day are to undergo the most exquisite tortures, in order to provoke his appetite to an- other guilty meal. Haii, O ye simple, honest bramins of the east ! ye inoffensive friends of all that were born to happiness as well as you! You never sought a short lived pleasure from the miseries of other creatures — you never studi- ed the tormenting arts of ingenious refinement — you never surfeited upon a guilty meal. How m ch more purified and refined are all your sen- sations than ours ! You distinguished every el- ement with the utmost precision : a stream un- tasted before is new luxury, a change of air is a new banquet, too refined for western imagina- tions to conceive. Though the Europeans do not hold the trans- migration of souls, yet one of their doctors has, with great force of argument, and great plausi- bility of reasoning, endeavoured to prove, that the bodies of animals are the habitations of de- mons and wicked spirits, which are obliged to re- side in these prisons, till the resurrection pro- nounces their everlasting punishment; but are previously condemned to suffer all the pains and 48 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. hardships inflicted upon them by man, or by each other here. If this be the case, it may fre- quently happen, that while we whip pigs to death, or boil live lobsters, we are putting some old ac- quaintance, some near relation, to excruciating tortures, and are serving him up to the very same table where he was once the most welcome com- panion. 44 Kabul, 5 ' says the Zendavesta of Zoroaster, 4< was born on the rushy b SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. TRUTH. Sincerity or truth is the basis of every vir- tue. That darkness of character where we can see no heart ; those foldings of art, through which no native affection is allowed to penetrate, present an object unamiable in every season of life, but particularly odious in youth. If, at an age when the heart is warm, when the emotions are strong, and when nature is expected to shew herself free and open, you can already smile to deceive, what are we to look for when you shall be longer hackneyed in the ways of men ; when interest shall have completed the obduration of your heart, and experience shall have improved 30U in all the arts of guile ? Dissimulation in youth is the forerunner of perfidy in old age. Its first appearance is the fatal omen of growing depravity and future shame. It degrades parte and learning, obscures the lustre of every ac- complishment, and sinks you into contempt with God and man. As you value, therefore, the approbation of heaven, or the estec* t i of the. world, cultivate the love of truth. In all your proceedings, be direct and consistent. Ingen- uity and candour possess the most powerful TRUTH. 89 charm : they bespeak universal favor, and car- ry an apology for almost every failing The path of truth is a plain and safe path ; that of falsehood is a perplexing maze. After the first departure from sincerity, it is not in } 7 our power to stop. One artifice unavoidably leads on to another : till, as the intricacy of the labyrinth increases, you are left entangled in your own snare. Deceit discovers a little mind, which, stops at temporary expedients, without rising to comprehensive views of conduct. It betrays at the same time, a dastardly spirit. It is the re- source of one who wants courage to avow his designs, or to rest upon himself Whereas openness of character displays that generous boldness which ought to distinguish mankind. To set out in the world with no other principle than a crafty attention to interest, betokens one who is destined for creeping through the infe- rior walks of life ; but to give an ear'y prefer- ence to honor., above gain, when they stand in competition ; to despise every advantage which cannot be attained without dishonest arts; to brook no meanness, and to stoop to no dissim- ulation ; are the indications of a great mind, the presages of future eminence and distinction in life. At the same time, this virtuous sincere 90 HUM A WIT'S'. ity is perfectly consistent with the most prudent vigilance and caution. It is opposed to cunning, not to true wisdom. It is not the simplicity of a weak and improvident, but the candour of an enlarged and open mind ! of one who scorns de- ceit, because he accounts it both base and un- profitable ; and who seeks no disguise, because he needs none to hide him. HUMANITY. Youth is the proper season for cultivating the benevolent and humane affections. As a great part of your happiness is to depend on the connection which you form with others, it is of high importance that you acquire betimes the temper and the manners which will render such connections comfortable. Let a sense of jus- tice be the foundation of all your social quali- ties. In your most early intercourse with the world, and even in your youthful amusements, let no unfairness be found. Engrave on your mind that sacred rule, of u doing in all things to others according as you wish that they should do unto you/' For this end, impress yourselves v. ith a deep sense of the original and natural CrENTLEBTESS. 91 equality of men. Whatever advantages of birth or fortune you possess, never display them with an ostentatious superiority. Leave the subor- dinations of rank, for it becomes you to act among your companions as man with man. He- member how unknown you are to the vicissi- tudes of the world ; and how often they, on vrhom ignorant and contemptuous young men once looked down with scorn, have risen to be their superiors in future years. Compassion is an emotion of which you ought never to be ashamed, Graceful in youth is the tear 'of sym- pathy, and the heart that melts at the tale of woe. Let not ease and indulgence contract your affections, and wrap you up in selfish enjoy- ment. Accustom yourselves to think of the dis- tresses of human life ; of the solitary cottage, the dying parent, and the weeping orphan. Never sport with pain and distress in any of your amusements, not' treat even the meanest insect with wanton cruelty. — Humanity confirm- ed into a uniform habit, is termed GENTLENESS. Genuine gentleness is to be carefully distin- guished from the mean spirit of cowards and the fawning assent of hypocrites. It renounces no just right from fear : It gives up no important •92 -GENTLENESS. truth from flattery. It is indeed not only con- sistent with a firm mind, but it necessarily re- quires a determined spirit and a fixed principle to give it its true support and value.. Its office is extensive ; it is not like some other virtues, called iorth only on peculiar emergencies; but is continually in action when we are engaged in intercourse with men. It ought to form our address, to regulate our speech, and to diffuse itself over our whole behavior. In order to carry on society, it has been found necessary, at least to assume its appearance. The imitation of its form has been reduced into an art, and, in the commerce of life the first study of all who would either gain the esteem, or win the hearts of oth- ers, is to learn the speech and to adopt the man- ners of candor, gentleness and humanity. But the characteristic gentleness of a good man is seated in the heart; his unaffected civility pos- sesses a charm more powerful than the studied manners of the most finished courtier. True gentleness is founded on a sense of what we owe to him who made us, and to the com- mon nature of which we all share. It arises Horn reflection on our own failings and wants; and from just views of the condition and the duty of man. It is native feeling, heightened and GENTLENESS. improved by principle. It is the heart which easily relents ; which feels for every thing that is sentient'; and is backward and slow to inflict the least wound. It is affable in its address, and mild in its demeanor ; ever ready to oblige, and ever willing to be obliged by others ; breathing habitual kindness towards friends, courtesy to strangers, justice to enemies. It exercises au- thority wtth moderation ; administers reproof with tenderness ; confers favors with ease and modesty. It is unassuming in opinion, and tem- perate in zeal. It contends not eagerly about trifles ; slow to contradict, and still slower to blame; but prompt to allay dissention, and to restore peace. It neither intermeddles unneces* sarily with the affairs, nor pries inquisitively in- to the secrets of otlters. It delights above all things to alleviate distress ; and, if it cannot dry up the falling tear, to sooth at least the grieving heart. Where it has not the power of being i useful, it is never burdensome. It seeks to please, rather than to shine and dazzle; and conceals with care that superiority, either of talents, or of rank, which is oppressive to those who are beneath it. In a word, it is that spirit and that tenor of manners, which the gospel of Christ enjoins, when it commands us ? " to bear M PEEVISHNESS. one another s burdens ; to rejoice with thoSe who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep ; to please every one his neighbor for his good ; to be kind and tender-hearted ; to be pitiful and courteous ; to support the weak, and to be pa- tient with all men." Blair. PEEVISHNESS. No disease of the mind can more fatally dis- able it from benevolence, the chief duty of so- cial beings, than ill humor or peevishness ; for though it breaks not out in paroxisms of outrage, nor bursts into clamor, turbulence or bloodshed ; it wears out happiness by slow corrosion and small injuries incessantly repeated. It may be considered the canker of li{p, that destroys its vigor and checks its improvements, that creeps on with hourly depredations, and taints and vi- tiates what it cannot consume. Peevishness, when it has been so far indulged as to out-run the motions of the will, and discover itself with- out premeditation, [in other words habitual crossness,] is a species of depravity in the high- est degree disgusting and offensive, because no rectitude of intention nor softness of address can escape affront or indignity. It is not easy to PEEVISHNESS.- 95 ; imagine a more unhappy condition than that of dependence on a peevish person. In many states of inferiority, the certainty of pleasing is perpetually increased by a fuller knowledge of our duty ; but by this troublesome impatience, our endeavors are frustrated at once, and all our assduity forgotten in the casual tumult of some trifling irritation. Men seldom give pleasure where they are not pleased themselves ; it is necessary, therefore, to cultivate an habitual alacrity and cheerfulness, in whatever state we may be placed ; that wheth- er we are appointed to confer or receive benefits, to implore or afford protection, we may secure the love of those with whom we transact; for though usefulness will always procure friends, yet without attention to our behavior, officious- ness and liberality may be so adulterated, as to lose the greater part of their effect ; thus by an unfeeling and insulting manner,compliarice may provoke, relief harass, and liberality distress. Habitual ill humor or sour temper is some- times the effect of anguish, disease and trouble, by which the mind is made too feeble to bear the lighten addition to its miseries. Nearly ap- proaching to this weakness is the captiousjiess of old age. When the strength is crushed, the 96 PEEVISHNESS. senses dulled, and life become insipid,' we fan- cy that we suffer by neglect and unkindness, we charge and revenge our pains on others and drive them away, when we have the greatest need of their tenderness and assistance. But though peevishness may sometimes claim our compassion as the concomitant or consequence of misery, it is very often found where nothing can justify or excuse its admission. It is gen- erally the vice of narrow minds ; the offspring of idleness anxious for trifles, of pride unwilling to endure the least obstruction to her wishes, or of the wanton tyranny of absolute authority, which being accustomed to see every thing give way to its humor is blind to its own littleness. The proper remedy is to consider the dignity of human nature and the folly of suffering [and wickedness of giving] perturbation and uneasi- ness for eauses unworthy of notice. That it is every one's interest to be pleased, can need little proof, that it is chiefly our interest to please oth- ers, experience will inform us. It is therefore not less necessary to happiness than to virtue, that we rid our minds of passions, which enchain our intellects and obstruct our improvement ; 3> says Epictetus, " they will know that I speak truth.' 7 " I have before me,'' says an eminent moral- ist, " an idea of justice, which if I could follow in every instance, I should think myself the most "happy of men. ?5 And it is, perhaps, of conse- quence to their happiness, as well as to their conduct, (if these two can be disjoined,) that men should have this idea properly formed : It is perhaps but another name ibr that good of mankind, which the virtuous are engaged to pro- mote. Virtue being the supreme good, its best and most signal effect is to communicate and diffuse itself To love, and even to hate, on the apprehen- sion of moral qualities, to espouse one party from a sense of justice, to oppose another with indignation excited by iniquity, are the common indications of probity, and the operations of an animated, upright, and generous spirit. To guard against unjust partialities, and ill- ground- ed antipathies ; to maintain that composure of mind, which, without impairing its sensibility or ardor, proceeds in every instance with discern- ment and penetration, are the marks of a vig- orous and cultivated spirit. To be able to fol- low the dictates of such a spirit through all the 124 MORAL SENTIME3T varieties of human life, and with a mind always master of itself, in prosperity or adversity, and possessed of all its abilities, when the subjects in hazard are life, or freedom, as much as in treating simple questions of interest, are the tri- umphs of magnanimity, and true elevation of mind. " The event of the day is decided. — Draw this javelin from my body now," said Epaminondas, SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. Let not Hope allure, nor Fear deter thee from doing that which is right : so shalt thou be pre- pared to meet all events with an equal mind. The terrors even of death are no terrors to the good : restrain thy hand from evil, and thy soul shall have nothing to fear. As blossoms and flowers are strewed upon the earth by the hand of spring ; as the kindness of summer produceth in perfection the bounties of harvest : so the smiles of pity shed blessings on the children of misfortune. He who pitieth another, recommendeth him- self; but he who is without compassion deser- ve th it not. Whilst the poor man groaneth on the bed of sickness : whilst the unfortunate languish in the horrors of a dungeon, or the hoary head of age lifts up a feeble eye to thee for pity : O how canst thou riot in superfluous enjoyments, regardless of their wants, unfeeling of their woes! # Thy food, thy clothing, thy convenience of habitation, thy protection from injuries, the en- joyments of the comforts and pleasures of life, thou owest to the assistance of others, and couldst net enjov but in the bands af society. ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE, 137 It is thy duty, therefore, to he a friend to man- kind, as it is thy interest that men should be friendly to thee. As the rose spreadeth sweetness from his own nature, so the heart of a benevolent man pre* duceth good works. From the largeness of his mind, he compre- hendeth in his svishes the happiness of all men ; and from the generosity of his heart, he endeav- oureth to promote it. The peace of society dependeth on justice $ the happiness of individuals, on the safe enjoy- ment of their possessions. Keep the desires of thy heart therefore within the bounds\>f moder- ation ; let the hand of justice lead them aright* In thy dealings with men be impartial and just; and do unto them as thou wouldest they should do unto thee. Be faithful to thy trust , and deceive not the man that relieth upon thee ; be assured, it is less evil in the sight of God to steal than to be- tray. Oppress not the poor, and defraud not of his hire the laboring man. Pay the debts which thou owest ; for he who gave thee credit, relied upon thy. honor; and to withhold from him his due, is both mean and unjust. 138 ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. Envy not thy benefactor ; neither strive to conceal the benefit he hath conferred : for though to oblige is better than to be obliged, and the act of generosity comraandeth admiration, yet the humility of gratitude toucheth the heart, and is amiable in the sight of both God and man. But receive not a favor from the hand of the proud ; to the selfish and avaricious have no ob- ligation ; the vanity of pride shall expose thee to shame ; the greediness of avarice shall never be satisfied. Wouldst thou enjoy the good will of all men, let thine own benevolence be universal. If thou ohtainestnt not by this, no other means could give it thee : and know, though thou hast it not, thou hast the greater pleasure of having merited it. Revenge is detestable : what then is Cruelty % Lo, it possessed! the mischiefs of the other ; but it wanteth even the pretence of its provocations. Men disown it as not of their nature ; they are ashamed of it as a stranger to their hearts : do they not call it inliuniajtiti/ ? Thou who art happy in the mercy of thy cre- ator, how darest thou in wantonness put others of his creatures to torture ? Beware that it turn not udou thee. ECOKOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. 139 Serve they not all the same universal master with thee? Hath he not appointed unto each its laws ? Hath he not care for their preserva- tion ? and darest thou to infringe it? - Do the good that thou knowest, and happiness shall be unto thee. Virtue is more thy business 3) ere than wisdom. Riches are servants to the wise : but they are t} T rants over the soul of the fool. Have not the wisest men been those who have had the least of it? And is not wisdom happi- ness? Have not the worst of thy species pos- sessed the greatest portion of it ? and hath not their end been miserable ? If thou art industrious to procure gold, be generous in the disposal of it. Man is never so happy as when he giveth happiness to another- He that prodigally lavisheth that which he hath to spare, robbeth the poor of what nature giveth them a right unto. .lie who squandered! away his treasure, refuseth the means to do good : he denieth himself the practice of virtues, whose reward is in their hand, whose end is no other than his own happiness. Think not the longest life the happiest ; tha f which is the best employed, doth man the mos<; honor ; himself shall rejoice, after death, in the advantage of it. Dodslri/, 140 SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDING. GooD-breedingis the result of much good sense, some good nature, and a little self denial for the sake of others, and with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them. It is astonishing to me, that any body, who has good sense and good nature, can essentially fail in good-breeding. As to the modes of it, indeed, they vary accord- ing to persons, places, and circumstances ; and are only to be acquired by observation and ex- perience ; but the substance of it is every where and eternally the same. Good manners are, to particular societies, what good morals are to so- cieties in general : their cement aad their secu- rity. And as laws are enacted to enforce good morals, or at least to prevent the ill effects of bad ones, so there are certain rules of civility, universally implied and received, to enforce good manners, and punish bad ones. And indeed there seems to me to be less difference, both be- tween the crimes and punishments, than at first one would imagine. The immoral man, who invades another's rights, is justly punished for it by law ; and the ill-bred man, who by his ill manners invades and disturbs the quiet and com- CIVILITY AND G 00B -BREEDING, 141 forts of private life, is by common consent as justly banished society. Mutual complaisances? attentions, and sacriiices of little conveniences, are as natural an implied compact between civ- ilised people, as protection and obedience are between the people and their laws : whoever, in either case, violates that compact, justly forfeits all advantages arising from it. For my own part, 1 really think, that, next to the conscious- ness of doing a good action, that of doing a civ- il one is the most pleasing; and the epithet which I should covet the most, next to that of Aristides, would be that of well-bred. Thus much for good-breeding in general. I will now consider some of its various modes and degrees. First. Very few, scarcely any, are wanting in the respect which they should show to those whom they acknowledge to be infinitely their su- periors ; such as crowned heads, princes, and public persons of distinguished and eminent posts. It is the manner of showing that respect which is different The man of fashion, and of the world, expresses it in its fullest extent ; but naturally, easily, and without concern : whereas a man, who is not used to keep good company, expresses it awkwardly ; one sees that he is not used to it, and that it costs him a great deal ; CIVILITY AZ\D GOOD BR fc £!>*]* G , but I never saw the Worst-bred man living, guil- ty of lolling, whistling, scratching his head, and such like indecencies, in company that he res- pected. In such companies, therefore, the only point to be attended to is, to show that respeci, which every body means to show, in an easy, unembarrassed, and graceful maimer. This is what observation and experience must teach. Second. In mixed companies, whoever is ad- mitted to make part of them, is, for the time at least, supposed to be upon a footing of equality with the rest ; and, consequently, as there is no one principal object of awe and respect, people are apt to take a greater latitude in their beha- viour, and to be less upon their guard; and so 7 may, provided it be within certain bounds, _ii are upon no occasion to be transgressed. But, upon these occasions, though no one is en- titled to distinguished marks of respect, every one claims, and very justly, every mark of civil- ity and ^rood-breeding. Ease is allowed, bur carelessness and negligence are strictly forbid- den. If a man accosts you, and talks to you ever so dully or frivolously, it is worse than rudeness, it is brutality, to show him by a man- ifest inattention to what he says, that you think film a fool or a blockhead, and net worth hear* CIVILITY A3NI3 GO0D«BREEDL\G, l43 i rig. It is much more so with regard to women^: who, of whatever rank they are, arc entitled, ia consideration of their sex, not only to an atten- tive, but an officious good breeding from mei). IV o provocation can justify any man in not being civil to every woman ; and the greatest man would justly be reckoned a brute if he was not civil to the meanest woinan. It is justly due to their sex, and is, the chief protection they have against the superior strength of ours. Observe the best and most well-bred of the French peo- ple, how agreeably the^ insinuate little civilities in their conversation. They think it so essen- tial, that they call an honest -man and a civil man by the same name, of honueie hmime ; and. the Romans called civility humamtas, as think- it iuseperable from humanity. I\ever usurp 10 yourself those little conveniences and delica- cies which are of common right: such as the best places, the best dishes, &c. ; but on the contrary, always decline them yourself, and of- fer them to others ; who, in their turns, will of- fer them to you : so that, upon the whole, you will, in your turn, enjoy your share of the com- mon right. ( It would be endless* to enumerate all the instances of good breeding ; good sense 144 CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDING. will point them out, good nature will recommend, and self interest will enforce their practice. There is a third sort of good-breeding, in which people are the most apt to fail, from a very mistaken notion that they cannot fail at all — I mean, with regard to one's most familiar friends and acquaintances, or those who really are our inferiors ; and there, undoubtedly, a greater degree of ease is not only allowed, but proper, and contributes much to the comforts of a private, social life. But that ease and free- dom have their bounds too, which must by no means be violated. A certain degree of negli- gence and carelessness becomes injurious and in- sulting, from the real or supposed inferiority of the persons ; and that delightful liberty of con- versation among a few friends, is soon destroy- ed, as liberty often has been, by being carried to licentiousness. Were I to show you, by a manifest inattention to what you said to me, that I was thinking of something else the whole time ; were I to yawn extremely, snore, or belch in your company, f should think that I behaved myself to you like a beast, and should not ex- pect that you would care to frequent me. No : the most familiar and intimate habitudes, con- nections and friendships, require a degree of CIVILITY AND GOOD-EREEDING. 145 good breeding, both to preserve and cement them. If ever a man and his wife, who pass nights as well as days together, absolutely lay aside all good breeding, their intimacy will soon degenerate into a coatse familiarity, infallibly productive of contempt or disgust. The best of us have our bad sides, and it is as imprudent as it is ill-bred to exhibit them. Ceremony would be misplaced between intimate acquaintances, but respectful civility is absolutely necessary. There are no persons so insignificant and in- considerable, but may some time or other, and in some thing or other, have it in their power to be of use to you ; which, they certainly will not; if you have once shown them contempt. Wrongs are often forgiven, but contempt or insult never is. Our pride remembers it forever. If there- fore you would rather please than offend, rath- er be well than ill spoken of, rather be loved than hated, preserve a constant attention to the feelings and wishes of others. Banish egotism out of your conversation, and never think of en- tertaining people with your own personal con- cerns, or private affairs ; though they are inter- esting to you, they are tedious and impertinent to every body else ; besides that, one cannot keep one's own private affairs too secret, What- 10 146 CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDIXG, ever you think your own excellences may be, do not affectedly display them in company ; nor labor as many people do, to give that turn to the conversation which may supply you with an opportunity of exhibiting them? If they are real they will infallibly be discovered, without your pointing them out yourself, and with much more advantage. Never maintain an argument with heat and clamor, though you think or know yourself to be in the right : but give your opin- ion modestly and coolly, wliich is the only way to convince. It is as natural, and as allowable, that another man should differ in opinion from me, as that I should differ from him, and if we are both sincere, we are both blameless ; and should consequently have mutual indulgence for each other. Believe yourself born not for yourself only hut for the world. Lucan says that this is a part of the character of Cato, who did not think himself born for himself only but for all mankind. Is a man born only for his own pleasure and advantage ; or is he not obliged to contribute to the good of society in which he lives, and of all mankind in general? This is certain, that every man re- ceives advantages from society which he could CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDINS, 147 not have if he were the only man in the world; therefore is he not in the same measure indebt- ed to society? and is he not obliged to do for others what they have done, or do for him ? There is nothing so delicate as moral charac- ter, and nothing which it is so much your inter- est to preserve pure. Should you be guilty of injustice, malignity, perfidy, lying, &c, all the parts and knowledge in the world will never procure you esteem, friendship, or respect. If unfortunately you have any vices, [or follies,] at least be content with yoifr own, and adopt not: those of others. The adoption of vice has ru- ined ten times more young men, than natural inclinations. Chuse your pleasures for yourself, do not let them be imposed upon you. Follow nature and not fashion ; weigh the present en- joyment of your pleasures against the necessary consequences of them, and then let your own common sense determine your choice. Neither retail or receive scandal, willingly ; for though the defamation of others may, for the present, gratify the malignity or pride of our hearts, cool reflection will draw very disadvan- tageous conclusions from such a disposition : and in the case of scandal, as in that of robbery, the receiver is always thought as bad as the thief. 148 CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDING. Mimicry, which is the common and favorite amusement of little, low minds, is in the utmost contempt with great ones. It is the lowest and most illiberal of all buffoonery. Neither practise it yourself, nor applaud it in others. Besides that, the person mimicked is insulted : and, as I have often observed before, an insult is never forgiven. In your pcrsori you must be accurately clean ; your teeth should be superlatively so. A dirty mouth has real ill consequences to the owner, for infallibly causes The decay of the teeth. I insist that you wash your teeth every day with water, [the tooth brush should be used on the back teeth, and the inside of ail the teeth, where the remains of the food lodges, as well as on the outside of the- front teeth. Draw the brush in the same direction as a tooth pick, perpendicu- larly, on the upper teeth downward, and on the Sower teeth upward.] Picking of the teeth, nose or ears in company is a vulgar rudeness too dis- gusting to dwell on. One word also as to swear- ing. You may sometimes hear some people in good company, interlard their discourse with oaths, by way of embellishment, as they think ; but you must observe, too, that those who do so, are never those who contribute, in any degree. CIVILITY AND GOOD-EREEDING. 149 tp give that company the denomination of good company. They are always subalterns, or peo- ple of low education : for that practice, besides that it has not one temptation to plead, is as silly and as illiberal, as it is wicked. Always retain in your thoughts, and observe in your actions the useful and necessary rule Suaviter in modo,fortiter in re, — i Gentle in man- ner, firm in conduct.' The gentle in manner would degenerate and sink into a mean and timid complaisance and passiveness, if not supported and dignified by real firmness, which also would run into impetuosity and brutality, if not tem- pered and softened by gentleness of manner. If you are in authority and have a right to com- mand, your commands delivered tenderly, will be willingly, cheerfully, and consequently well obeyed ; whereas, if given only imperatively, that is brutally, they will rather, as Tacitus say, be interpreted than executed. For my own part, if I bid my footman bring me a glass of wine, in a rough insulting manner, I should ex- pect, that, in obeying me, he would contrive to spill some of it upon me ; and I am sure I would deserve it. A cool, steady resolution should show, that where you have a right to command, you will be obeyed ; but. at the same 150 CIVILITY ASM> GOOD-BKEEDLXC, lime, a gentleness in the manner of enforcing that obedience should make it a cheerful one, and soften as much as possible, the mortifying consciousness of inferiority. If you are to ask a favor, or even to solicit your due, you must do it with gentleness, or you will give those, who have a mind to refuse you either, a pre- tence to do it, by resenting the manner ; but, on the other hand, you must by a steady perse- verance and decent tenaciousness, show actual firmness. Sudden passion is short-lived mad" ness, but the fits of it return so often in choler ic people, that it may be called a continual mad_ ness. Study to subdue or at least to check it. resolve not to speak or act till your choler has subsided. Be cool and steady on all occasions 5 the advantages of such a steady calmness are innumerable. It may be acquired by care and reflection, if it could not, that reason which dis- tinguishes men from brutes, would be given us, to. very little purpose; as a proof of this, I nev- er saw, and scarcely ever heard of a Quaker in a passion ; in truth, there is in that sect a de- corum and a decency, and an amiable simplici- ty. If you find a hastiness in your temper, which breaks out in rough expressions or actions to your superiors, your equals or your inferior CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDING. 151 watch it narrowly, check it carefully, and call to your assistance suaviter in modo. On the other hand, let no complaisance, no gentleness of temper, no weak desire of pleasing on your part, no wheedling, coaxing, nor flattery, of oth- er people's, make you recede one jot from any point that reason and prudence have bid you pursue; but return to the charge, persist, per- severe, and you will find most things attainable that are possible. A yielding, timid meekness is always abused and insulted by the unjust and the unfeeling, but when sustained by the foriiter hi re is always respected, commonly successful. Let your firmness and vigor preserve and invite attachments to you ; but at the same time, let your manner hinder the enemies of your friends from becoming yours : let your own enemies be disarmed by the gentleness of your manner; but let them feel at the same time, the steadi- ness of your just resentment ; for there is great difference between bearing malice, which is al- ways ungenerous, and a resolute self-defence, which is always prudent and justifiable. The true heroes are such as Julius Csesar, Titus, Trajan, and the king of Prussia ;. who cultivated and encouraged arts and sciences; whose ani- mal courage was accompanied by the tender and 152 CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDING social sentiments of humanity; and who had more pleasure in improving, than in destroying their fellow-creatures. It is a very old and very true maxim, that those kings reign the most secure, and the most absolute, who reign in the hearts of their peo- ple. Their popularity is a better guard than their army; and the affections of their subjects a better pledge of their obedience than their fears. This rule is, in proportion, full as true, though upon a different scale, with regard to private people. A man who possesses that great art of pleasing universally, and of gaining the affec- tions of .those with whom he converses, posses- ses a strength which nothing else can give him : a strength, which facilitates and helps his rise : and which, in case of accidents, breaks his fall. You cannot I am sure, think yourself superior bv nature to the domestic who cleans vour room. or the footman who cleans your shoes. Enjoy all your advantages ; but without insulting those who are unfortunate enough to want them, or even doing any thing unnecessarily that may re- mind them of that want For my own part, I am more upon my guard as to my behavior to my servants, and others who are called my in- feriors, then I am towards my equals ; for fear CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDING, 153 of being suspected -of that mean and ungenerous sentiment, of desiring to make others feel that difference which fortune has, and perhaps, too, undeservedly, made between us. Young people do not enough attend to this : but falsely imag- ine that the imperative mood, and a rough tone of authority and decision, are indications of spir- it and courage. Inattention is always looked upon, though sometimes unjustly, # a% the effect of pride and contempt; and where it is thought so, is never forgiven. In this article young peo- ple are generally exceedingly to blame, and of- fend extremely. Good sense, complaisance, gentleness of man- ners, attention and graces are the only things that truly engage and durably keep the heart at the long run. Knowledge may give weight, but accomplishments give the lustre, and many more people see than weigh. Good-breeding carries along with it a dignity that is respected by the most petulant. Ill-breeding invites and author- ises the familiarity of the most timid. Our own good-breeding therefore, is our best security against other people's ill-manners. The person who manifests a constant desire to please, pla- ces his, perhaps small, stock of merit, at great interest. What vast returns, then, must real 154 CIVILITY AND GOOD-BREEDING. merit, when thus adorned, necessarily bring in! Civility is the essential article towards pleasing, but good-breeding is the decoration and the lus- tre of civility, and is to be acquired by attention and experience. A good-natured horse-jockey or fox-hunter may be intentionally as civil as xhe politest courtier ; but their manner often de- grades and vilifies the matter ; whereas, in good- breeding, tfle 1 manner always adorns and digni- fies the matter to such a degree, that I have of- ten known it give currency to base coin. The British manner of hunting is fit only for bump- kins and boobies ; the poor beasts are pursued and run down by much greater beasts than them- selves. The desire of being pleased is universal : the desire of pleasing should be so too, There are,. indeed, some moral duties of a much higher na- ture but none of a more amiable. The manner of conferring favors or benefits is, as to pleasing, almost as important as the matter itself. Take care then never to throw away the obligations which you may have in your power to confer up- on others, by an air of insolent protection, or by a cold and comfortless manner, which stifles them in their birth. Humanity inclines, relig- ion requires, and our moral duties oblige us, as THE PROGRESS OF CRUE1TY. . 155 far as we are able, to relieve the distresses and miseries of our fellow-creatures: but this is not all ; for a true heart-felt benevolence and tender- ness will prompt us to contribute what we can to their ease, their amusement and their plea- sure as far as innocently we may. Let us then not only scatter benefits, but even strew flowers for our fellow travellers, in the rugged ways of this wretched world. Chesterfield. THE PROGRESS OF CRUELTY. [The plates are by William Hogarth, and the comment on their moral tendency, by the Rev. John Trusler. In this edition, some al- terations have been made in the plates .and the comments. The three verses at the head of the explanation of the first and second stages of cru- elty, were originally engraved under the plates.] These prints were engraved with the hope of in some degree correcting that barbarous treat- ment of animals, the very sight of which renders the streets of our metropolis so distressing to every feeling mind. If they have that effect in checking the progress of cruelty, I am more proud of being their author than I should be of having painted Raphael's Cartoons. Hogarth. 156 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. THE FIRST STAGE OF CRUELTY, "What various scenes of cruel sport The infant race employ, What future baseness, must import The tyrant in the boy. ** c - Behold a youth of gentler look. f To save the ere ture's pain, • Oh take V he cries, ' here take my book,' But tears and book are vain. '■ Learn from this fair example, you Whom savage sports delight, How cruelty disgusts the view, While pity charms the sight." The first plate represents an imaginary col- lection of children of various ages, engaged in different barbarous diversions; some solitary, some in groups. The wretch on the right-hand corner in front, is tying a bone to a, dog's tail, in order to hurry it through the streets and en- joy its terror and pain ; this cruel act is heighten- ed by the affectionate creature's turning round and innocently attempting to lick the boy's hand. Next to him is a lad setting two cocks to light ; n refined amusement practised also by full-grown children. On the left corner a dog is urged to THE PROGRESS OF CRUELTY, 157 THE FIRST STAGE OF CRUELTY, 158 THE PROGRESS OF CRUELTY, THE FIRST STAGE OF CRUELTY, -FIRST STAGE OF CRUELTY. 159 worry and tear to pieces, one of the tabby kind, by a young master. Further back on the right of the plate is seen a fellow who is the hero of these plates, and was by Mr. Hogarth, named Nero, after the old Roman monster. He has deprived his dog of its ears, and is about cutting off its tail with his shears, one of his comrades securing and choaking the animal with a rope round its neck. A youth returning from school, intercedes inbehalf of the maimed, suffering crea- ture, and even offers the other a book as a pres- ent, if he will release the dog. This shows not only the necessity of general instruction, but also that general humanity should always be an essential constituent of education, without which, )Oth boys and men would be little better than avages and brutes. Behind Nero, an arch lad las drawn on the wall a criminal hanging on a .allows : the probable destiny of Nero and some f his wicked companions. On the rear of the .all is, first, an urchin who has robbed a bird's lest, next, another, swinging a buzzing insect vhich he has impaled at the end of a string, md then a group, who are suspending two cats to- gether from a lamp-post, and enjoying their ago- nes ; above these is an infant philosopher throw- ng a cat from a garret window in imitation of 160 THE PROGRESS OF CRUELTY. those adult sages, who connect useless animal suffering with their experiments. On the left; side of the picture is a poor, inoffensive, decrepit woman, who is insulted, hooted, and pelted by a gang of mischievous children: Thus showing that inhumanity is the same odious crime, wheth- er practised towards the inferior animals, or to- wards human beings, that those who are guilty of the one, will if they have the power, be equal- ly guilty of the other, and confirming the truth of the proverb that " Cruelty is the coward's vice/ 3 THE SECOND STAGE OF CRUELTY. " The generous steed in feeble age, Subdued by labor lies, And mourns a cruel master's rage, While nature strength denies. a The tender lamb o'er-drove and faint, Amidst expiring throes, Bleats forth its innocent complaint, And dies beneath the blows " Inhuman wretches ! whence proceeds This coward cruelty ? What interest springs from barbarous deeds 2 What joy From misery !" ■y.pE PROGRESS OF CRUELTY. THE SECOND STAGE OF GHUELTY, n THE PROGRESS OF CRUELTY, THE SECOND STAGE OF CRUELTY, SECOND STAGE OF CRUELTY. 1$3 The spirit of inhumanity exhibited in the first plate as growing up in youth, is in this ripened in manhood. The hero of our piece has become a hackney coachman, a profession which affords him an opportunity of displaying his brutal dis- position. He is here shown cruelly beating one of his horses for not rising, though in its fall by oversetting the coach it has had the misfortune to break its leg. The lean, galled and starved appearance of the afflicted creature, is a man- ifest proof of the habitual unkindness of its mas- ter. Pity it is, that such barbarous wretches should be suffered to live, or at all events, to have any control over sentient beings, Efl^wev- er his behavior attracts the attention of a passer^ by, who is taking the number of his coach in order to have him punished. The humane face of this man, opposed lo the rigid one of the oth« er, affords a spirited contrast and in some mea- sure brightens the scene. On the right is seen one ©f those inhuman wretches, who are so of- ten permitted to drive cattle to and from the slaughter-house and market. He is beating a tender over-driven lamb with a club-stick for not going on, and the poor, faint creature is dy- ing with the fatigue and blows, with its entrails issuing from its mouth, Further back is a dray- 164 THE PROGRESS OP CRUELTY. man or cartman drunk, riding on the shafts of his cart, the wheels of which are running over a child ; while the contents of the casks he has in charge are heing spilled; and for both of these accidents, occasioned by the criminal neglect of the cartman, the innocent horse will, as usual, be half murdered by his guilty driver. Still fur- ther back is a lubberly fellow riding upon an ass, and as if the beast was not sufficiently burthen- ed, he has taken up a porter with a load upon his back, behind him. The overladen animal is ready to sink under the weight ; the foremost rider ^eating, of course, while the man (brute) behmff is goading him with a pitch-fork. In the back ground is seen a mob baiting and wor- rying a bull to the great terror and danger of the passengers. The. bills pasted on the house, on the left, intimate that prize-fighting, horse- racing, and like inhuman sports are encouraged. Humanity is the distinguishing attribute of the human species, yet how common is reckless, and even studied barbarity ! The cruelty of some of our pastimes is fitting our old English ancestors, the Goths, and Scythians ; and does not the epicure even torture his fellow-animal, to pamper his voluptuous appetite ? People call- j?d civilised are still sanguinary. SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 165 CRUELTY IN MATURITY. My coneienee has a thousand several tongue?. And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a yillian. Cruelty, perjury, in the highest degree j Beceit, stern murder in the direst degree^ All several crimes, all us'd in each degree ; Throng to the bar all crying, Guilty i Guilty ! f I shall despair — No creature loves me living; And when I die, no soul shall pity me : Nay, wherefore should they? Shakespeare, Continued acts of barbarity are found in time to divest men of their natural feelings ; for he that would not hesitate to torture and destroy a helpless, harmless animal, would not but through fear of the law, scruple to torture and murder a fellow creature. Nay, the laws themselves are not able to prevent such horrid crimes. As a proof of this, Mr. Hogarth describes the hero of this piece as arrived at such a state of vice as to be past feeling: no tenderness is supposed to affect him, no scene of distress to move him. Let us then take a view of cruelty in perfection, and see to what horrid lengths his disposition has carried him. As a hackney coachman his barbarity did not pass unnoticed, his treatment o his horses became notorious and was attended 166 THE PROGRESS OF CRUELTY, with discharge from his place. The skeleton, seen in the background, of one of his miserable victims, whom, we may imagine, he has mur- dered with starvation and ill-treatment, reminds us of this portion of his inhumanity. Being therefore at a loss for maintenance, his wicked turn of mind soon led him to robbery upon the road, which is shewn by the pistols and watch found upon him. During the time he followed this iniquitious career, we are to suppose him to have made himself acquainted with a young woman residing in the country, whom he deceiv- ed and betrayed by his false protestations ; for baseness and duplicity are a common form of cruelty. Having gained the affections of this unfortunate female, he wickedly prevails on her to desert her friends, take the plate and jewels, and elope with him at midnight. She keeps the assignation faithfully, laden with val- uables. Having predetermined to screen him- self from detection in the robbery, and also to rid himself of the consequences of his seduction, he commits the horrid deed. She struggles for her life and her shrieks alarm the family from their peaceful slumbers. They rush to her as- sistance, but arrive not until the vital spark has fled | in time however to secure the assassin. THE PROGRESS OP CRUELTY. 167 CRUELTY *N T MATUB1TB WB THbl PKOGRIiSS OF CRUELTV. CRUELTY IN MATURITY, CRUELTY IN MATURITY. 169 In a letter found on him, which is seen lying on the ground, she says, " My conscience flies in- to my face, as often as I think of wronging my best friends ; yet I am resolved to venture body and soul to do as you would have me." Her confidence was indeed awfully requited by the unfeeling hypocrite. By this fell act, however, she was prevented from enduring that immensi- ty of wretchedness and despair, which she must have suffered, had she lived and become the wife of such a depraved ruffian. Behold, here, him who had no feeling for oth- ers, compelled at last to feel for himself. Con- founded by the bloody knife, the confiding let- ter and all the various manifest proofs of Iris atrocity ; shuddering at the pallid, lifeless vic- tim of his lust, avarice and reckless cruelty ; as- tounded by the sights and cries of woe, from the agonised and horror-struck parents, rela- tions and spectators ; overwhelmed with the re- morse of his own conscience deluging his soul, by turns, with the irreperable past, the horri- ble present, and the dreadful and inevitable fu- ture. Uq is seized, bound and hurried to pris- on, where we may conceive him awaiting his trial, sentence and punishment, in all the hor- rors and dismay, which are the natural conse- quences of his atrocious crimes* SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. ]7I CAUSES AND CRUELTY OF WAR. The motives or causes of war are innumer- able : I mention only a few of the chief. Some- times the ambition of princes, >vho never think they have people or land enough to govern. Sometimes the corruption of ministers, who en- gage their master in a war in order to stifle or divert the clamor of their subjects against their evil administration. Difference of opinion has Gost many millions of lives ; neither are any wars so furious and bloody or of so long con- tinuance, as those occasioned by difference of opinion, especially if it be in things indifferent* Sometimes the quarrel between two princes, is to decide which of them shall dispossess a third of his dominions, where neither of them pretend to any right. Sometimes one prince quarrels with another for fear the other should quarrel with him. Sometimes war is entered upon be- cause the enemy is too strong ; and sometimes, because he is too weak. Sometimes our neigh- bors want the things which we have, or have the things which we want, and both fight, till they take ours, or give us theirs. It is a very nistiflable cause of a war, to invade a countiv 172 THE CAUSES OF WAR. after the people have been wasted by famine, destroyed by pestilence, or embroiled by fac- tions among.themselves. It is justifiable to en- ter into a war against our nearest ally, when one of his towns lies convenient for us, or a ter- ritory of land, that would render our dominions round and compact. If a prince sends forces into a nation, where the people are poor and ig- norant, he may lawfully put half of them to death, and make slaves of the rest,* in order to civilize and reduce them from their barbarous way of living. It is a very kingly, honorable, and frequent practice, when one prince desires the assistance of another, to secure him against an invasion, that the assistant when he has driv- en out the invader, should seize on the domin- ions himself, and kill, imprison, or banish the prince he came to relieve. Alliance by blood, or marriage, is a frequent cause of war between princes ; and the nearer their kindred is, the greater their disposition to quarrel. Poor na- tions are hungry, and rich nations are proud : pride and hunger will ever, be at variance. [How many of these causes have produced the wars between the white men and the Indians?] For these reasons, the trade of a soldier is held most honorable of all others ; because a soldier CRUELTY OF WAR, 173 is a Yahoo [or human brute,] hired to kill, in cold blood, as many of his own species, who have never offended him, as possibly he can. Being no stranger to die art of war, I gave him a description of cannons, culver ins, mus- kets, carabines, pistols, bullets, powder, swords, bayonets, battles, sieges, retreats, attacks, un- dermines, countermines, bombardments, sea- fights, ships sunk with a thousand men, twenty thousand killed on each side, dying groans, limbs flying in the air, smoke, noise, confusion trampling to death under horses feet, flight, pur- suit, victory ; fields strewed with carcasses, left for food to the dogs and wolves, and birds of prey; plundering, stripping, ravishing, burning and destroying. I computed, that in the long war with France, wherein the greatest powers of Christendom were engaged, about a million of Yahoos might have been killed ; a hundred or more cities taken, and five times as many burnt or sunk. And to -set forth the valor of my own dear countrymen, I assured him, - 4 that I had seen them blow up a hundred enemies at once in a siege, and as many in a ship ; and beheld the dead bodies drop down m pieces from the clouds, to the great diversion of the spectators." J was going on to more particulars, when my 174 THE CRUELTY OF WAR. master commanded me silence. He said " that as my discourse had increased his abhorence of our whole species, so he found it gave him a dis- turbance in his mind, to which he was wholly a stranger before. He thought his ears, being used to such abominable words, might by de- grees admit them with less detestation : and that when a creature pretending to reason could be capable of such enormities, he dreaded, lest the corruption of that faculty, might be worse than brutality itself. He seemed therefore con- fident, that instead of reason, we were only pos- sessed of some quality, fitted to increase our natural vices," Swift's Gulliver. It would perhaps be impossible, by the most labored argument, or forcible eloquence, to show the absurd injustice and horrid cruelty of war so effectually, as by this simple exhibition of them in a new light : with war, including every spe- cies of iniquity and every art of destruction, we become familiar by degrees under specious terms, which are seldom examined, because they are learned at an age, in which the mind impli- citly receives and retains whatever is impressed ; thus, when one man murders another to gratify his lust, [avarice or hate,] we shudder ; but ^vhen one man murders a million to gratify his CKUELTIT OF WAEi 175 vanity, we approve, and wg admire, we envy, and we applaud. If, we discover that most of the wars in history have been commenced for such causes, and carried on by such means % let not Swift be censured for too much debas* ing his species, who has contributed to their felicity and preservation, by stripping off the veil of custom and prejudice, and holding up, in their native deformity, the vices by which they become wretched, and the arts by which they are destroyed. Hawkcsworth. Ah! when shall reason's intellectual ray, Shed o'er the moral world more perfect day ? When shall that gloomy world appear no more A waste, where desolating tempests roar ?— Where savage Discord howls in threatening form ; And wild ambition leads the madd'ning storm, Where hideous Carnage marks his dang'rous way, [P re y * And where the screaming Vulture scents his Ah ! come blest Concord ! chase, with smile serene, The hostile passions from the human scene ! May Glory's lofty path be found afar From agonizing groans and crimson war; And may the ardent mind that seeks a name, Claim not the martial, but the civic' fame ! Miss Williams, 176 THE CRUELTY OF WAR, WHAT A CHARMING THING'S A BATTLE Trumpets sounding, drums a beating; Crack! crack! crack! the cannons rattle; Every heart with glory heating. With what rapture are we spying, From the van, the flank, the rear, Showering through the smoky air, -Heads and limbs and bullets dying' Then the groans of soldiers dying Just like sparrows as it were. At each pop, hundreds drop- — Muskets, rifles, prittle, prattle ! /KilPd and wounded, lie confounded, What a charming thing's a Battle ! But the funniest sport of all — * Mid sighing, crying, dying moans. And widows* tears, and orphans' groans; is when to close attack we fall, With broken heads, and hearts, and bones $ Like mad bulls, each other butting, Shooting, stabbing, maiming, cutting, Horse and foot, All go to't, Kill's the word, both men and cattle. Then fire and plunder ! Blood and thunder, What a charming thing's a Battle ! 'SHE CBYJELTY O^ WAR. iW O Monstrous War! After" the brightest conquest what remains Of all thy glories? For the vanquished— chains~ For the proud victor — what ? Alas ! to reign O'er desolated nations— a drear waste By one man's crime, by one man's lust of pov, r Unpeopled ! Naked plains and ravag'd fields, •Succeed to smiling harvests and the fruits, Of peaceful olive— luscious fig and vine ! Here rifled temples are the cavern'd dens Of savage beasts, or haunt of birds obscene ; There .'—populous cities blacken in the sun,, And in the gen'ral wreck proud palaces Lie undistinguish'd save by the dun smoke Of recent conflagration ! When the song Of dear bought joy with many a trumpet swell J d 9 Salutes the Victor's ear and sooths his pride, How is the grateful harmony profan'd With the sad dissonance of Virgins' cries, Who mourn their brothers slain ! Of Matron's hoar, Who clasp their wither'd hands and fondly ask With iteration shrill — their slaughter'd sons ! How is the laurel's verdure stain'd with blood, Arid soil'd with widows' and with orphans' tears! Hannah More. 12 r7» SPIRIT OF HUMANITY,, CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. * A righteous wan rcgardeth the life of his beast. PKO VERBS, X£I. 10, The word regard is of two-fold signification? and may either apply to the moral or to the in- tellectual part of our nature. In the one appli- cation, the intellectual, it is the regard of atten- tion. In the other, the moral, it is the regard of sympathy, or kindness. Our argument has to do, more properly, with the inertness of our reflective faculties, rather than with the inca- pacity of our senses. It is in behalf of animals, and not of animalculae, that we are called upon to address y6u — not of that countless swarm, the agonies of whose destruction are shrouded from observation by the vail upon the sight ; but of those creatures who move on the face of the open perspective before us, and not as the others in a region of invisibles, and yet whose dying agonies are shrouded almost as darkly and as densely from general observation, by the vail upon the mind. For you will perceive, that in reference to the latter vail, and by which it is that what is out of sight is also out of mind, its purpose is accomplished, whether the objects OJEtUELTY TO AJVIMALSe 170 which are disguised by it be without the sphere ^factual vision, or beneath the surface of pos- sible vision. Now, it is without the sphere of your actual, although not beneath the surface of your possible vision, where are transacted the dreadful mysteries of a slaughter-house, and more especially those lingering deaths which an animal has to undergo for the gratifications of a refined epicurism. It were surely more desira- ble riiat the duties, if they may be so called, of a most revolting trade, were all of them got over with the least possible expense of suffering ; nor do we ever feel so painfully the impression of a lurking cannibalism in our nature, as when we think of the intense study which has been given to the connection between modes of killing, and the flavor or delicacy of those viands which are served up to mild, and pacific, and gentle-lbok- inj creatures, who form the grace and the orna- ment of our polished society. One is almost tempted, after all, to look upon them as so many savages in disguise ; and so, in truth, we should, but for the strength of that opiate whose power and whose property we have just endeavored to explain ; and in virtue of which, the guests of an entertainment are all the while most pro- foundly nnconscious of the horrors of that pre- 180 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. paratory scene which went before it. It is noty therefore, that there is hypocrisy in these smiles wherewith they look so beningiy to each other. It is not that, there is deceit in their words or their accents of tenderness The truth is, that one shriek of agony, if heard from without, would cast most oppressive gloom over this scene of conviviality ; and the sight, but for a moment, of one wretched creature quivering to- wards death, would, with Gorgon spell, dissip- ate all the gaieties which enliven it. In the chase also, and the fight, amid the whole glee and fervency of the tumultuous en- joyment, there might not, in one single bosom, be aught so fiendish as a principle of naked and abstract cruelty. The fear which gives its light- ning-speed to the unhappy animal : the thick- ening horrors which, in the progress of exhaus- tion, must gather upon its flight; its gradually sinking energies, and, at length, the terrible cer- tainty of that destruction which is awaiting it ; that piteous cry, which the ear can sometimes distinguish amid the deafening clamor of the blood-hounds, as they spring exuitingiy upon their prey; the dread massacre and the dying agonies of a creature so mist rably torn ; — all tk\$ weight of suffering? we admit, is not once CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 1$I sympathised with ; but it is perhaps because the suffering, itself is not once thought of. It touches not the sensibilities of the heart; but just because it is never present to the notice of the mind. We allow that the hardy followers in the wild romance of this occupation, we al- low them to be reckless of pain ; but this is no 1 ; rejoicing in pain. Theirs is not the delight of savage, but the apathy of unreflecting creatures.; It is something else in the spectacle of agony which ministers pleasure than the agony itself: and many is the eye which glistens with trans- port at the fray of animals met together for their mutual destruction, and which might be brought to weep, if, apart from all the excite- ments of such a scene, the anguish of the wound- ed or dying creatures were placed nakedly be- fore it. There is a science connected with the light, which has displaced the sensibilities that are connected With its expiring moans, its pite- ous and piercing outcries, its cruel lacerations. In all this we admit the utter heedlessness of pain ; but we are not sure if even yet there be aught so hellishly revolting as any positive grat- ification in the pain itself — or whether, even in the lowest walks of blackguardism in society, it do not also hold, that when sufferings even unto 182 CftUELTV TO ANIMALS, death are fully in sight, the pain of these suf- ferings is as fully out of mind. But the term science, so strangely applied as it has been in the example now quoted, reminds us of another variety in this most afflicting de- tail. Even in the purely academic walk we read or hear of the most appalling cruelties ; and the interest of that philosophy wherewith they have been associated, has been plead in mitigation oi them. And just as the moral debasement incur- red by an act of theft is somewhat redeemed, if done by one of Science's enamoured worship- pers, when, overcome by the mere passion of connoisseur&hip, he puts forth his hand on some choice specimen of most tempting and irresis- tible peculiarity — even so has a like indulgence been extended to certain perpetrators of stout- est and most resolved cruelty; and that just be- cause of the halo wherewith the glories of intel- lect and of proud discovery have enshrined them. And thus it is, that, bent on the scrutiny of na- ture's laws, there are some of our race whp have hardihood enough to explore and elicit them at the expense of dreadest suffering — who can make some quaking, some quivering animal, the subject of tli eir hapless experiment— -who can institute a questionary process by which to draw CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 188 out the secrets of its constitution, and, like in- quisitors of old, extract every reply by an in- strument of torture — who.can probe their unfal- tering way among the vitalities of a system which shrinks, and palpitates, and gives forth, at ever/ movement of their steadfast hand, the pulsations of deepest agony ; and all, perhaps, to ascertain and to classify the phenomena of sensation, or measure the tenacity of animal life, by the pow- er and exquisitness of animal endurance. And still, it is not because of all this wretchedness, but in spite of it, that they pursue that barbar- ous occupation. Even here it is possible, that there is nought so absolutely Santanic as delight in those sufferings o£ which themselves are the inflicters. That law of emotion by which the sight of pain calls forth sympathy, may not be reversed into an opposite law, by which the sight of pain would call forth satisfaction or pleasure. The emotion is not reversed — it is only over- borne, in the play of other emotions, called fortL by other objects. He is intent on the science o£ those phenomena which he investigates, and be- thinks not himself of the sufferings which they involve to the unhappy animal. So far from the sympathies of his nature being reversed, or even annihilated, there is in most cases an effort, and 184 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. of great strenuousness, to keep them down ; and Ills heart is differently affected from that of oth- er men, just because the regards of his mental eye are differently pointed from those of other men. The want of natural affection forms one article of the Apostle's indictment against our world ; and certain it is, that the total want of it were stigma enough for the designation of a monster. The mere want of religion, or irre- ligion, is enough to make man an outcast from Iiis God. Even to the most barbarous of our kind you apply, not the term of aw&'humanity, but of ^humanity — not the term of antisensibll- ity : no, you hold it enough for the purpose of branding him for general execration, that you convicted him of complete and total insensibility. He is regaled, it is true, by a spectacle of agony —but not because of the agony. It is someth- ing else, therewith associated, which regales him. But still he is rightfully the subject of most emphatic denunciation, not because regaled by, but because regardless of, the agony. We do not feel ourselves to be vindicating the cruel man, when we affirm it to be not altogether cer- tain, whether he rejoices in the extinction of life ; for we count it a deep atrocity, that, unlike to the righteous man of our text, he simply dor* CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 185 not regard the life of a beast, You may per- haps have been accustomed to look upon the negative of character, as making up a sort of neutral or midway innocence. But this is a mis- take. Unfeeling is but a negative quality ; and yet, we speak of an unfeeling monster. It is thus that even the profound experimentalist, whose delight is not in the torture which he in- flicts, but in the truth which he elicits thereby, may become an object of keenest reprobation : not because he was pleased with suffering, but simply because he did not pity it — not because the object of pain, if dwelt upon by him, would be followed up by any other emotion than that which is experienced by other men, but because, intent on the prosecution of any other object, it was not so dwelt upon. It is found that the eclat even of brilliant discoveries does not shield him from the execrations of a public, who can yet convict him of nothing more than simply of neg- atives— of heedlessness, of heartlessness, of look- ing upon the agonies of a sentient creature with- out regard, and therefore without sensibility The true principle of his condemnation is, that lie ought to have regarded. It is not that, in virtue of a different organic structure, he feels differently from others, when the same simple 186 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. object is bronght to bear upon him. But it i$, that he resolutely kept that object at a distance from his attention, or rather, that he steadily kept his attention away from the object ; and that, in opposition to all the weight of remon- strance which lies in the tremours, and the writhings, and the piteous outcries, of agonized Nature. Had we obtained for these the regards of his mind, the relentings of his heart might have followed. His is not an anomalous heart 5 and the only way in which he can brace it into sternness, is by barricading the avenue which leads to it. That faculty of attention, which might have opened the door, through which suf- fering without finds its way to sympathy within, is otherwise engaged ; and the precise charge, on which either morality can rightfully condemn, or humanity be offended, is, that he wills to have it so. But these introductory remarks, although they lead, I do think, to some most important suggestions for the management of the evil, yet they serve not to abate its appalling magnitude, Man is the direct agent of a wide and continual distress to the lower animals, and the question is, Can any method be devised for fts allevation % 43a this subject that scriptural image is striking' CItUKLTY TO ANIMALS. 187 iv realized, " The whole inferior creation groan- 4 inland travailing together in pain," because of him. It signifies not to the substantive amount of the suffering, whether this be prompted by the hardness of his heart, or only permitted through the heedlessness of his mind. In either way it holds true, not only that the arch-devour- er man stands pre-eminent over the fiercest child- ren of the wilderness as an animal of prey, but that for his lordly and luxurous appetite, as well as for his service or merest curiosity and amusement, Nature must be ransacked through- out all her elements. Rather than forego the veriest gratifications of vanity, he will wring them from the anguish of wretched and ill-fated creatures ; and whether for the indulgence of his barbaric sensuality, or barbaric splendor, can stalk paramount over the sufferings of that pros- trate creation which has been placed beneath his feet. That beauteous domain whereof he has been constituted the terrestrial sovereign, gives out so many blissful and benignant aspects ; and whether we look to its peaceful lakes, or its flowery landscapes, or its evening skies, or to all that soft attire which overspreads the hills and the valleys, lighted up by smiles of sweet- est sunshine, and where animals disport them- 1SS ^ CRUELTY XO AXI&IALS. selves in all the exuberance of gaiety — this sure* ly were a more befitting scene for the rule o^ clemency, than for the iron rod of a murderous and remorseless tyrant. But the present is a mysterious world wherein we dwell. It stiii bears much upon its materialism of the impress of Paradise. But a breath from the air of Pan- demonium has gone over its living generations. And so " the fear of man, and the dread of man, is now upon every beast of the earth, and upon, every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon all the fishes in the sea ; into man's hands are they delivered : every moving tiling that liveth is meat for him ; yea, even as the green herbs, there have been given to him all things." Such is the extent of his jurisdic- tion, and with most full and wanton license has he revelled among its privileges. The whole earth labors and is in violence because of his cruelties ; and, from the amphi-theatre of sen- tient Nature, there sounds in fancy's ear the bleat of one wide and uuiversal suffering, — a dreadful homage to the power of Nature's con- stituted lord. These sufferings are really felt The beasts of the field are not so many automata without ♦sensation, and just so constructed as to give forth CRUELTY TO AXIMALS. l%i< all the natural signs and expressions of it. Na- ture hath not practised this universal deception upon our species. These poor animals just look, and tremble, and give forth the very indications of suffering that we do. Theirs is the distinct cry of pain. Theirs is the unequivocal physiog- nomy of pain. They put on the same aspect of terror on the demonstrations of a menaced blow. They exhibit the same distortions of agony af- ter the infliction of it. The bruise, or the burn, or the fracture, or the deep incision, or the fierce encounter with one of equal or superior strength, justs affects them similarly to ourselves. Their blood circulates as ours. They have pulsations m yarious parts of the body like ours. They sicken, and they grow feeble with age, and, tinal- ]y, they die just as we do. They possess the settle feelings; and what exposes them to like suffering from another quarter, they possess the :;ame instincts with our own species. The Holi- ness robbed of her whelps causes the wilderness to ring aloud with the proclamation of her wrongs ; or the bird whose little household has- been stolen, fdls and saddens all the grove with melodies of deepest pathos. All this is palpa- ble even to the general and unlearned eve ■ and "■hen the physiologist lays open the recesses of 190 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. their system by means of that scalpel, under whose operation they just shrink and are con- vulsed as any living subject of our own specie^, there stands forth to view the same sentient ap- paratus, and furnished with the same conductor? for the transmission of feeling to every minutest pore upon the surface Theirs is unmixed and unmitigated pain — the agonies of matrydom, without the alleviation of the hopes and the sen- timents, whereof they are incapable. When they lay them down to die, their only fellowship is with suffering, for in the prison-house of their beset and bounded faculties, there can no relief be afforded by communion with other interests or other things. The attention does not lighten their distress as it does that of man, by carrying off his spirit from that existing pungency and pressure which might else be overwhelming. There is but room in their mysterious economy for one inmate ; and that is, the absorbing sense of their own single and concentrated anguish. And so in that bed of torment, whereon the wounded animal lingers and expires, there is an unexplored depth and intensity of suffering which the poor dumb animal itself cannot tell, and against which it can offer no remonstrance ; an antold and unknown amount of wretchedness, of CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 191 which no articulate voice gives utterance. But there is an eloquence hi its silence; and the very shroud which disguises it, only serves to aggravate its horrors. To obtain the regards of man's heart in be- half of the lower animals, we should strive to draw the regards of his mind towards them. We should avail ourselves of the close alliance that obtains between the regards of his attention, and those of his sympathy. For this purpose, we should importunately ply him with the ob- jects of suffering, and thus call up its respon- dent emotion of sympathy, that among the oth- er objects which have hitherto engrossed his at- tention, and the other desires or emotions which have hitherto lorded it over the compassion of his nature and overpowered it ; this last may at length be restored to its legitimate play, and re- instated in all its legitimate preeminence over t*ie other affections or appetites which belong to him It affords a hopeful view of our cause, that so much can be done by the mere obtrusive presen- tation of the object to the notice of society. It is a comfort to know, that in this benevolent warfare we have to make head, not so much against the cruelty of the public, as against the heedlessness of the public ; that to hold forth 192 CRUELTY TO AXIJ5IALS, a right view, is the way to call forth a right sen- sibility ; and, that to assail the seat of any emo- tion, our likeliest process is to make constant and conspicuous exhibition of the object which is fitted to awaken it. Our text taken from the profoundest book of experimental wisdom in the world, keeps clear of every questionable or cas~ ulistical dogma ; and rests the whole cause of the inferior animals on one moral element, which is s in respect of principle ; and on one practical method, which is, in respect of efficacy, unques- tionable : Cf A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast." Let a man be but righteous in the gen- eral and obvious sense of the word, and let the re- gard of his attention be but directed to the case of the inferior animals, and then the regard of bis sympathy will be awakened to the full extent at which it is either duteous or desirable. Still it may be asked to what extent will the duty go ? and our reply is that we had rather push the duty forward than define the extreme termination of it. Yet we foresee not aught so very extreme as the abolition of animal' food ; but we do foresee the indefinite .1 abridgment of all that cruelty which subserves the gratifications of a base and selfish epicurism. We think that a Christaii| and humanized society will at length lift their prevalent voice., for the least po^ CRUELTY TO ASTItfALS* 1§3 sibie expense of suffering to all the victims of a necessary slaughter — for a business of utmost horror being also a business of utmost dispatch — for the blow, in short, of an instant extermin- ation, that not one moment might elapse between a state of pleasurable existence and a state of profound unconsciousness. Again, we do not foresee, but with the perfecting of the two sci- ences of anatomy and physiology, the abolition, of animal experiments ; but we do foresee a gra- dual, and, at length, a complete abandonment of the experiments of illustration, which are at pre- sent a thousand-fold more numerous than the experiments of humane discovery. The inst.t ition of a yearly sermon against cruelty to animals, is of itself a likely enough expedient, that might at least be of some aux- iliary operation, along with other and more gen- eral causes, towards such an awakening. It is not by one, but by many successive appeals, that the cause of justice and mercy to the brute cre- ation will at length be practically carried. It is a subject on which the public do not require so much to be instructed, as to be reminded ; to have the regard of their attention directed again and again to the sufferings of poor helpless creatures, that the regard of their sympathy 13 194 CRUELTY TO A3VIMALS, might at length be effectually obtained for them. This then is a cause to which the institution of an anniversary pleading in its favor, is most pre- cisely and peculiarly adapted. Yet we are loath to quit our subject without one appeal more in behalf of those poor suffer ers, who, unable to advocate their own cause, possess, on that very account, a more impera- tive claim on the exertions of their advocate. And first, it may have been felt that, by the way in which we have attempted to resolve eru- *ltj into its elements, we instead of launching xeouke against it, have only devised a palliation for its gross and shocking enormity. But it is not so. It is true, we count the enormity to lie mainly in the heedlessness of pain ; but then we charge this flagrantly enormous thing, not on ihe mere desperadoes and barbarians of our land, but on the men and the women of general, and even oi cultivated and high-bred society. Instead of stating cruelty to be what it is not, and then confining the imputation of it to the outcast few, we hold it better, and practically far more important, to state what cruelty really is, and then fasten the imputation of it on the common-place and the companionable many. Those outcasts to whom vou would restrict the CRUELTY ^O ANIMALS. 195 condemnation, are not at present within the reach of our voice. But you are ; and it lies with you to confer a ten-fold greater boon on the inferior creation, than if all barbarous sports, and if all bloody experiments were forthwith put an end to. It is at the bidding of your collective will to save those countless myriads who are brought to the regular and daily slaughter, all the differ- ence between a gradual and instant death. And there is a practice realised in every-day life, which you can put down, — a practice which strongly reminds us of a ruder age that has long" gone by; — when even beauteous and high-born ladies could partake in the dance, and the song, and the festive chivalry of barbaric Castles, un- mindful of all the piteous and the pining agony of dungeoned prisoners below. We charge a like unmindfulness on the present generation We know not whether those wretched animals whose still sentient frameworks are under pro- cess of ingenious manufacture for the epicurism or the splendor of your coming entertainment, — we know not whether they are now dying by inches in your own subterranean keeps,or through the subdivided industry of our commercial age, are now suffering all the horrors, of their pro- tracted agony, in the prison-house of some dis~ 196 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. tant street where this dreadful trade is carried on. But truly it matters nought to our argu- ment, ye heedless sons and daughters of gaiety ! We speak not of the daily thousands who have to die that man may live ; but of those thous- ands who have to die more painfully, just that man may live more luxurously. We speak to you of the art and the mystery of the killing trade — from which it would appear, that not alone^ the delicacy of the food, but even its ap- pearance, is, among the connoisseurs of a refined epicurism, the matter of skilful and scientific computation. There is a sequence, it would ap- pear — there is a sequence between an exquisite death, and an exquisite or a beautiful prepaia- tio of cookery; and just in the ordinary way that art avails herself of the other sequence of philosophy, — the first term is made sure, that the second term might, according to the meta- physic order of causation, follow in its train. And hence we are given to understand, hence the cold-blooded ingenuities of that previous and preparatory torture which oft is under-gone, both that man might be feasted with a finer rehsh ; and that the eyes of man might be feasted and regaled with a finer spectacle. The atrocities of [the anatomist and the naturalist] have been CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 197 blazoned before the eye of a British public ; but this is worse in the fearful extent and magnitude of the evil — truly worse than a thousand Majen- dies. His is a cruel luxury, but it is the luxury of intellect. Yours is both a cruel and a sensual- luxury : and you have positively nought to plead for it but the most worthless and ignoble appe- tites of our nature. Bnt, secondly, and if possible to secure your kindness for our cause, let me offer to your no- tice the bright and the beautiful side of it. I would bid you think of all that fond and pleas^ ing imagery, which is associated even with the lower animals, when they become the objects of benevolent care, which at length ripens into a strong and cherished affection for them— as when the worn-out horse is permitted to graze, and be still the favorite of all the domestics through the remainder of his life ; or the old and shaggv house-dog that has now ceased to be serviceable, is nevertheless sure of its regular meals, and a decent funeral ; or when an adopted inmate of the household is claimed as property, or as the object of decided partiality, by some one or other of the children ; or, finally, when in the warmth and comfort of the evening fire, one or more of these home animals take their part m the living 198 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. groupe that is around it, and their very pres- ence serves to complete the picture of a blissful and smiling family. Such relationships with the inferior creatures, supply many of our finest associations of tenderness, and give, even to the heart of man, some of its simplest yet sweetest enjoyments. He even can rind in these, some compensation for the dread and the disquietude wherewith his bosom is agitated amid the fiery conflicts of infuriated men. When he retire? from the stormy element of debate, and exchan- ges, for the vindictive glare, and the hideous discords of that outcry which he encounters among his fellows, — when these are exchanged for the honest welcome and the guileless regards of those creatures who gambol at his feet, he feels that even in the society of the brutes, in whose hearts there is neither care nor contro- versy, he can surround himself with a better at- mosphere far, than that in which he breathes among the companionships of his own species. Here he can rest himself from the fatigues of that moral tempest which has beat upon him so violently ; and, in the play of kindliness with these poor irrationals, his spirit can forget for awhile all the injustice and ferocity of their boasted lords. Thomas Chalmers* SPIRIT Of> HUMANITY, 19$ THE ISLAND OF INNOCENCE, FriexVd on thy simple isle, in fancy's eye, Envying I often look, and often sigh ; In fancy rove thy small domain by day, And, pleas'd, with thee in nightly visions stray ; Behold thee happy at thy wonted toil, And mark the blossoms of a fruitful soil : While at thy side thy Julia plants the ground, With all her little progeny around ; Who study shrubs and flow'rs with eager eyes, And learn of simple Nature to be wise, Pleas'd to explore the insect world, they rove, Tribes of the flood, and minstrels of the grove; With all the varying species of the field, Whose forms and lives delight, and wisdom yield; Display the page of providence's plan, [man. That shows his wondrous works to wond'ring No wish is theirs (forbid it Heav'n !) to hurr^ To wound, and murder a poor wretch in sport 5 To lift the tube of death, with hostile eye, And dash a fluttering victim from his sky ; To bait with writhing worms the barbarous hook, And drag the finny nation from their brook : Justly forbid the cruelty to know, And gather pleasure from the pangs of woe ! 2UU 1H& ISLAND OF iSXOCESCE, Blest on their boughs, the squirrel tribes the}! see, And call the hungry urchins from their tree. Who, fearless, hastening at the kind command? Fly to their food, and court th' extended hand ; Now scud in playful gambols o'er the plain, And, fully feasted, seek their groves again. And now they beckon to the feather'd throng ; Forth fly, in flocks, the little bands of song : They hop, and chirp, and flutter round each head, Pleas'd to be call'd, and anxious to be fed. A' length content, they flicker to their spray, Adjust their plumes, and pour the thankful lay. Now, happy, to the stream they haste to feed T With liberal hand, the little finny breed : Fearless of danger, lo, the sportive fry, M mntto the water's brim with watchful eye, A :d leaping oft as urging hunger calls, Meet the dropp'd crumb, and catch it ere it falls. Such are the blisses of thy girls and boys, And such the blisses innocence enjoys. Oh, when will Freemen list to reason's voice, And, chang'd, no more in cruelty rejoice ? How nobler thus t' address the harmless hare * Child of the field, O come beneath my care 5 Safe in thy lonely slumber pass the day, Along the moonlight hills in safety stray; IHE 1ST, AT' B -~ IS OtSEKC3E. 201 When Heav'n's kmd • . y made those valleys mine ; Heav'n made the freedom of those valleys thine, 7 How nobler to the winter's bird to say, • Poor stranger, welcome from thy stormy way, Drop in my groves, enjoy the tepid springs, And lodg'd in peace, repose thy wearied wings: The food and shelter of my valleys share : Like t$g, a child of Providence's care.' How nobler to the finny tribe to say, 4 Y our's be the rills that 'midst my pastures stray : The Pow'r who gave to mortals ev'ry good, Forgot not yours, his infants of the flood.' Humanity, how few thy merits see ! Ho* scarce the altars that are rais'd to thee ! Nymph of the tender heart ; and melting eye. Vain o'er the savage Million is the sigh ! O could- thy gentle spirit more impart Of softness, sweetness to the human heart I But lo, by cruel nature led astray, The ruder passions rule with boisterous sway ; Drown'd is thy voice — a zephyr's sigh — no more! The murm'ring rill 'midst ocean's mighty roar ! O give the hist'ry of our horrid deeds ; Proclaim how love laments, and friendship bleeds ! How virtue pines, how merit hides the head, And pity steals to tombs to mourn the dead ; 202 THE ISLAND OF INNOCENCE. Paint all the horrors of domestic strife, And give the gilded snares of polish'd life ; Tell tales of Fortune, at whose tinsel shrine, Fools daily kneel, and for her favor pine ; Who, when she yields, means only to beguile— Fate in her hand, and ruin in her smile. O paint our dungeons, where, with putrid breath, [death : The wretch, desponding, pants, and sighs for Paint the poor felon, doom'd, ah ! doom'd to die, Wan the pale cheek, and horror-struck the eye ; With languid limbs that droop to earth in pain, Pressed, loaded, lab'ring with a clanking chaiu \ While, on the stillness of the midnight air, Sad moans the voice of Mis'ry and Despair : Paint all the horrors of the midnight shade, Theft's iron crow, and Murder's reeking blade. Paint the poor objects that we hourly meet, The wrecks of beauty crowding ev'ry street ; Daughters of Innocence, ere Demon Art Won on the weakness of too soft a heart ; And doom'd to infamy the tender kiss, Due to pure love alone and wedded bliss. Paint courts, whose sorceries, too seducing bind, In chains, in shameful slavish chains, the mind . Courts, where unblushing Flatt'ry finds the way, A??d casts a cloud o'er Truth's eternal ray. Wolcott. SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 203 EDUCATION. !i Wanton, and what is worse, studied Cruelty to brutes, is certainly wrong." — paley. Idleness or curiosity sometimes leads cLil- dren to a cruelty in their treatment of such ani mals as are placed within their power ; dogs, cats, birds, butterflies, &a often suffer from their inhumanity. But when they seem inclined to such cruelty, let them be carefully watched and let every means be used to awake their hearts to generous sensibility. Allow them to keep tame birds, dogs, &c. only on account of their using them with tenderness. Perhaps this un- happy disposition to cruelty is occasioned or at least fostered by people's laughing when they behold the impotent efforts of children to do mis- chief, and often going so far as even to encour- age them in maltreating those creatures which are within their reach. We entertain them too with stories of fighting and battles : and repre - sen tcharacters distinguished for atrocious acts of inhumanity as great and illustrious. But let such practice be carefully refrained from, if yon wish to inspire your children with generous and hnmane sentiments. Teach them gentleness 204 EDUCATION. and tenderness, not only to brute animals but also to servants and companions. Inspire hem with a disposition to please and oblige all with whom they are conversant ; next, teach them how to express that disposition in the most be- coming manner. Let boisterous roughness, haughty contempt of others, censoriousness, im- pertinent raillery, and a spirit of contradiction, be banished from their temper and behavior. At the same time beware of leading them to re- gard the mere forms of intercourse as a matter of the highest importance. Remember that gen- uine good-breeding is only an easy and graceful way of expressing good sense and benevolence in our conversation and department. Encyclopedia Brittannicti. By universal education only can the increase of vice and crime, of pauperism and misery, be efficiently checked. The inmates of the jails, hospitals, prisons, penitentiaries, and of the haunts of vice and dissipation are generally com- posed of the uninstructed or the badly instructed ; and is it not unjust and cruel in the extreme for the influential and enlightened to punish the ef- fects of that ignorance which their own criminal neglect permits ? The children of the industri. ^ns classes are in very many instances growing UNIVERSAL HUMANITY, 205 2Q§ UNIVERSAL HUMANITY. EDUCATION. 207 up an opprobrium to the legislators, a burden and a curse to themselves, their parents, and their country, for want of those facilities of ed- ucation which, if afforded by government, would render them to all these equally an ornament and a support. Certainly it should be the par- amount study as it is the positive interest and duty of the lawgivers and leaders of public opin- ion to afford every possible aid and sanction to this vital object, instead of further neglecting, encumbering or postponing — leaving it to linger an imperfect and a doubtful existence, dependent on charity or chance. The object of education should be, not only to elicit and cherish the latent germs of genius and talent, but also to awaken and enlighten the moral sensibilities ; to implant a deep and firmly rooted sympathy or conscientiousness, which shall not merely cause the observance and sup- port of the laws of the country, but by its innate force create a rectitude of purpose, and energy of action, beyond and above the letter or the power of human laws. The present age is dis- tinguished for its various benevolent and chari- table institutions, among the foremost of which, rank those devoted to the cause of temperance. What an inestimable great and valuable auxiU- #UO EDUCATION. ary to this and all the other measures of moral reformation, would be furnished by reformed Education. In the primary schools, must \h& death blow of crime be struck; the anticipate faculties of the rising generation be guided and strengthened. There they should be taught., that Humanity includes every moral virtue, and that every vice is comprised in cruelty. Man himself occupies but a small space among the multitudinous inhabitants of the earth, a ver\ large portion of whom are within his power, and their happiness or misery directly or indirectly dependent not on their own actions but on his In this country he now engrosses for his susten- ance or pleasure, the labor and the lives of nunv ber less other sentient creatures. The superior knowledge and consequent power and disposition conferred by true education, would cau^e him wisely and justly, to make General Humanity his guide in his pursuits for his own happiness,, and the present enormous mass of animal suf- fering need not exist. This grateful duty of us- ing the sacred trusts of the Diety as not abusing them, was declared by a party af farmers and mechanics in New- York county, as follows * i£ If all mankind were sufficiently enlightened and educated to know their true interests and S6PJKIT OF BVMASIIY. 209 H 210 SPIRIT OF HUMAJ MANITY EDUCATION. 211 to understand that the practice of justice and kindness to all animal creation is indispensihlu necessary to the attainment of human happiness, no penal laws nor courts of justice would be re- quired to restrain men from doing injury to their fellow beings, or to induce them to pursue human happiness through the paths ot moral virtue P While as members of the human family, we are every day, and every hour dependent for our comfort and even existence in society, on the good disposition and good services of our fellows ; is it not self-evident, that to expand and strengthen their physical and intellectual faculties, and leave their humane sympathies in- ert; to educate the head and the hands, and ne- glect the heart, is to commit at once moral and social suicide ; to create power, only that it may be abused. How instructive is the Oriental maxim, that "To teach a knave [without human- ising him,] is to put a dagger into the hands of an assassin ! ,? — Proposition for appropriating all the U. S. Lands, aud half of the JJ. S. sur- plus revenues, to Common Schools, in each State. He who permits his son to consume the sea- son of Education in hunting, shooting, or in fre- quenting horse-races, assemblies or other unedi- fying, if not vicious, diversions, defrauds th# gli JBDUCATIOKT. Community of a benefactor and bequeaths thenu a nuisance. Foley. Wisdom and knowledge, as well as virtue, diffused generally among the body of the peo- ple, being necessary for the preservation of their rights and liberties 1 , and as these depend on spreading the opportunities and advantages of Education in the various parts of the country, and among the different orders of the people, it shall be the duty of the legislatures and magis tratee, in all future periods of this common- wealth, to cherish the interests of literature and the sciences, and all seminaries of them ; to countenance and inculcate the principle of human- ity and general benevolence, public and private charity, industry and frugality, honesty and punctuality in their dealings; sincerity, good Jiumor, and all social affections and generous sen- timents among the pe pleP Constitutions of Msasachusetts and New Hampshire. Promote then as an object of primary impor- tance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlight- ened. Washington's Farewell Address. EDUCATION, 21$ Education is the guardian of liberty and the bulwark of morality. Knowledge and virtue are generally inseperabie companions, and are in the moral, what light and heat are in the natural world, the illuminating and vivifying principle. Man becomes degraded in proportion as he lostfs the light of self government Every effort ought therefore to be made to fortify our free institutions; and the great bulwark of security is to be found in education ; the culture of the heart and the head, the diffusion of knowledge, piety and morality. A virtuous and enlightened man can never submit to degradation ; and a virtuous and enlightened people will never breathe in the atmosphere of slavery. Upon education we must therefore rely for the purity, the preservation, and the perpetuation of repub- lican government. Jn this sacred cause we can- not exercise too much liberality. De Wirt Clinton. In casting our eyes over the numerous catal- ogue of human crimes and frailties ; over the list of those who have perished on the scaffold, or have died a more painful and lingering death, the result of blasted character, and the world's scorn — one would wish to know if the germs of jlieir turpitude were perceptible in the days 214 EDUCATION, which are generally those of innocence. Wheth- er the cold-blooded murderer in after-life, was distinguished by a peculiar cruelty to his com- panions, or to insects and animals, in his infan- cy — whether the forger and the thief betrayed any propensity to dishonesty in their youth. It would be curious to trace the human mind either to the perfection of greatness, or to the completion of crime ; to trace the hero from his play at prisoner's base, where he domineered over his school mates, to the battle by which he gains or loses an empire— the murderer, from spinning a cock-chaffer, or taking a bird's nest, to the moment where his hand is dyed in the blood of the heart he has stabbed, or the throat he has cut — and the profligate from the first germs of deceit and vanity, to that period when scorned of all observers they are the admitted companions only of those as infamous as them- selves. Bcazley's Roue. The aim of Education is to make a man wise and good, literature does not suffice. Now, not a moral science is taught, not a moral practice is inculcated. The only moral principle at a pub- lic school is that which the boys themselves ta- citly inculcate and acknowledge ; it is impossible to turn a large number of human beings loose EDUCATION. 215 upon each other but what one of the consequen- ces will be the formation of a public opinion, and public opinion instantly creates i* silent but om- nipotent code of laws. Thus among boys there is always a vague sense of honor and of justice,, which is the only morality that belongs to schools. It is this vague and conventional sense to which the master trusts and with which he seldom in* terferes. But how vague it is, how confused, how erring! What cruelty, tyranny, duplicity, are compatible with it ! it is no disgrace to insult the weak and to lie to the strong ; to torment the fag, and to deceive the master. These princi- ples grow up with the boy, insensibly they form the matured man. Look abroad in the world* what is the most common character ? that which is at once arrogant and servile. Bull Baiting and boxing are amusements that brutalise. The advocates of such popular amusements would turn people into swine, and then boast of their kindness in teaching them to be savage. The object of recreation should be to soften and refine men, not to render them more ferocious, Bulwer. 016 SPIRIT OF HU3IAKITY, CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. [The London " Society for the suppression of vice,'' made an attack on that monstrous root of all vice — Cruelty, The Edinburgh Review approves their principle, but censures the society for not extending their denunciations and pros- ecutions to offenders of wealth, fashion, and in- fluence. Five prevalent modes of cruelty, viz : angling, hunting, preparing of boar's flesh or brawn., crimping of fish, and burning or boi'i g to death shell fish, are described by the society as follows :] Running an iron hook into the intestines of an animal ; presenting this first animal to an- other as his food ; and then pulling this second creature up and suspending him by the barb in his stomach. Riding a horse till he drops, in order to see an innocent animal torn to pieces by dogs. Keeping a poor animal upright for many weeks, to communicate a peculiar hardness to his flesh. Making deep incisions into the flesh of an- other animal while living, in order to make the muscles more firm. Immersing another animal, while Hvinj, m hot water* CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 217 How reasonable creatures can enjoy a pastime which is the cause of such sufferings to brute an- imals, or how they can consider themselves en- titled for their own amusement to stimulate those animals by means of antipathies which pro\i- dence has thought proper to place between them, to worry, to tear, and often to destroy each oth- er, is difficult to conceive. So inhuman a practice by a retribution peculiarly just, tendd ob iously to render the human character brutal and fe- rocious, — Address of the London Society for the suppression of Vice. Such abominable cruelties as the above are worthy of the interference of the law; ami that the society should have punished them, cannot be a matter of surpiise to any feeling mind. We venerate those feelings which really protect creatures susceptible of pain and incapable of complaint. These are all high-life cruelties, but heaven-bom pity npw-a-days, ascertains the rank and fortune of the tormentor, before she weeps for the pain of the sufferer. The pain inflicted by the dog of a man of quality is the same as that inflicted by the cur of a butcher. Haller in his Pathology expressly says that liness, are as indispensable in the stable of a farmer, (as far as is consistent with a just re- gard for economy,) as they have always been he d to be in the treatment of horses kept for |fea ure. Good dressing is no less necessary to the thriving of the horses than good feeding. Al Y bough in many countries hoist's are used only for t ei labor, probably nothing but prejudice, prevents their supplying, (at least occasionally,) hi man food. — Supplement to the Encyclopedia Brittannica. Canal Horses. The horses are worn out in such an improvident manner upon the Canal % that the demand for them is greater than it ever has been, the great waste of these animals and their consequent suffering, has fallen under the observation of many humane and intelligent per- sons It is not the interest of the, owners of the animals to hurry them on to premature destruci tion ; and there is a maximum of useful effect which the horse can produce without wasting himself prematuiely. W here this is exceeded it it must be at the expense of his constitution. These animals so serviceable to us are certainly entitled to kindness at oujc hands at least. r i bp object of this paper is to awaken attention to the abuses of horses in canal labor, in order to do 286 *EHB HORSE. some good to the animals as well as their own- ers. The body of a horse constitutes his natural weight ; and it is by his muscular power that he is enabled to move it. The natural power of the animal divides itself into pressure to move hi* load and muscular action to move himself in this state. The total power or strength of every horse having 1 natural limits, it is evident if the pressure i* increased beyond its just limit, it must be at the expense of the muscular power, which will thus be untimely exhausted and the titiiity of the animal destroyed before its natu- ral period h is expired. When a body is in mo- tion, its progress is retarded by the pressure of its own weight to the surface it moves upon. On a canal rhe force to be overcome is not fric- tion but the resistance of the fluid, this increases nearly as the square of the velocity. Here is one advantage of the rail-roads over canals; on the former, if the distance for the day is not in- creased, the speed may be augmented without inconvenience. On the canal every trifling in- crease of speed accelerates the destruction of the animal, whose labor on a canal is always at some disadvantage. Where the load and speed are properly adjusted a horse will do his work com- ^7liB HORSE. fbr'ably every day for a distance of 20 mil s ; but his distance vvith tSie same load cannot be increased without injuring him. Upon a -canal, a horse may drag nearly 30 tons for 20 miles every day, at the rate of two miles an hour ; but if his speed with that load is increased to four miles an hour, the resistance [instead of being doubled] is quadrupled, and he is in fact, made to do while at that pace, the work of four hor- ses. It is for the owners of those animals which perform canal labor, to see that the work is done systematica^ and after some rule, consistent to the consideration they owe to the animals which labor for them, in which also their own interests are involved. George W. FcalhersiGiihaitgh In J\ew York Assembly, April 18, 1831. Report of t le committee on Agriculture, re- lating to Hor e facing. Mr. Gilchrist, from the standing committee on Agriculture, respectfully reports : — That your committee unanimously concur iu the belief that a very great majority of the peo- ple of this state, disapprove of the passage of laws establishing race-courses. We submit. whether horse racing in all its varieties of scrub, petty or grand, does not produce evils which are 238 IHE HORSE. inherent, and insepefable from the system and ^common to every kind of horse race? It is submitted whether running horses for a bet or wager, does not involve some of the worst and most distinctive features of gambling. The result it is true is not decided by the cast of a die, or the spots on a card, but by a contingency equally uncertain, the fleetness of a horse. This is not all : if one of those noble animals should unfortunately for himself, be found to possess the quality of swiftness, he is instantly put in training, brought on the race course, goaded in- to preter-natural exertion by the whip and spurt not to subserve the convenience and comfort Of man, his original destiny, but for the purpose of transferring a purse from the pocket of one man, to that of another. It is further submitted whether in this respect the infliction of cruelty for such a purpose does not contravene our hu- mane laws in relation to the cruel treatment of animals. Moreover, do not race courses pro- duce evils unknown even to gambling within doors, in as much as they assemble the thought- less and the profligate from a wide circle of ter- ritory, occasioning waste of time and rroncy, ex- posing such crowds to the contamination of evil communications* to intemperance, and to every THE HORSES. '2S& crhUe and danger incidental to such gatherings?- And can it be sound policy to purchase such very equivocal good, at the expense of so much positive evil ? Or will it be pretended, that any possible improvement in the breed of race hor- ses can compensate for this moral and physical deterioration in the breed of men ? It would be curious, though painful to ascer- tain accurately the number of insolvencies, of criminal convictions; the number of those who have become. victims to gambling, intemperance, &c, who might have lived good citizens, but for the folly of having attended a horse nice! New York State Documents. 0ome forth my brave Steed ! the sun shines on the vale, And the morning is bearing its balm on the gale — Come forth my brave steed ! and brush off as we pass With the hoofs of thy speed the bright dew frota the grass. Let the lover go w r arble his strains to the fair — I regard not»his rapture, and heed not his care ; But now as we bound o'er the mountain and lea, I will weave my brave steed a wild measure for thee* Away and away — I exult in the glow, Which is breathing its priue to my cheek ae we go j £40 ?H£3 HOUSE. And blithely my spirit springs forth — as the air 5 Which is waving the mane of thy dark flowing hair* Hail thou gladness of heart and thou freshness of soul Which have never come o'er me in pleasure's control — Which the dance and the revel, the bowl and the board, Though ihey flush'd and they fever'd, could never afford. In the splendor of solitude speed we along Th ough the silence but broke by the wild linnets song ; Not a sight to the eye, not a sound to the ear — To tell us that sin and that sorrow are near. Away — and away — and away then we pass — The blind mole shall not hear thy light foot on the grass ; And the time which is flying while I am with thee, Seems as swift as thyself — as we bound o J er the lea. Buliccr. VI?T GIL'S DIRECTIONS. Soothe him vv th praise, and make him. understand The ioud applauses of his master's hand: This, from his weaning let him well be taught; And then betimes in a soft snaffle wrought, ■Bef >re his lender joints with nerves are knit, *E[jnried in arms, and trembling at the bit. THE HORSE. 241 But when to four full springs his years advance, Teach him to run the round, with pride to prance, And (rightly manag'dj equal time to beat, To turn, to bound and measure, and curvet. Let him to this, with easy pains, be brought, And seem to labor, when he labors not. Thus formed for speed he challenges the wind, And leaves the Scythian arrow far behind : He scours along the field with loosen 'd reins, And treads so light, he scarcely prints the plains j Like Boreas in his race, when rushing forth, He sweeps the skies, and clears the cloudy nortk; The waving harvest bends beneath his blast ; The forest shakes ; the groves their honors cast ; He flies aloft, and with impetuous roar Pursues the foaming surges to the shore. Or bred to Belgian wagons, leads the way, Untir'd at night, and cheerful all the day. 16 242 THE ox. [Virgil teaches a like gentleness in training ihe ox.] The calf, by nature and by genius made To turn the glebe, breed to the rural trade. Set him betimes to school : and let him be Instructed there in rules of husbandry, While yet his youth is flexible and green, "Nor bad examples of the world has seen. Early be i to break ; For his soft neck, a sup] le collar make Of bending o- ! (with time and care Inur'd that easy servitude to bear) Thy flatt'ring method on the youth pursue : Join 'r I to his school frlljw by two and two, Persuade *them first to lead an empty wheel, That scarce the Bust can raise, or they can feel : In Length of time produce the lab'rirg yoke, A*vl shining shares, that make the furrow smoke* Ere the Licentious youth be thus restraint, Or moral precepts on their minds have gam'd, Their wanton appetites not only feed With delicates of leaves, and marshy weed, But with thy sickle reap the rankest land, And minister the blade with bounteous hand : Nor be with harmful parsimony won To fo low what our homely eires h?ve done, Who fiird the pail with beasting? < f the cow ; But all her udder to the calf uiiow.— Drydm sVh\ THE OX. 243 The ok should he gradually and early train- ed, that he may obey the voice and whip, for it is only by beginning early that the ox can be brought willingly to bear the yoke, and he easily governed. At the age of two and a half, or at the latest three, you may begin to tame the ox, and bring him under subjection, if delayed long- er he becomes fro ward and often ungovernable. The best method of succeeding is by patience, mildness, ad even caresses, (for compulsion and ill treatment vuil often disgust him irreclaim- ably,) stroking him gently along the back, c!ap_ ping him, giving him occasionally boiled barley ground beans and such other aliments as p ease him b'est, all of them mingled wim salt of which lie is very fond, will prove of the greatest use. At the same time his horns should be often tied, and some days after, the y<*ke is to be put on his neck, and fastened to the plough, with an- other ox of nearly the same size, ready trained, these are to be tied together at the manger, and in the same manner led to the pastuie, that they rnav become accpiainted and accustomed to have one common motion, 'i he goad or whip is never to be made use of in the beginning, as that would only render him more untraceable* He must aLo be indulged, and labor only at 244 EARLY FRIENDSHIP. short intervals, fear till he is thoroughly trained he tires himself very much. The ox should draw the plough only from his third to his tenth year, when it will be adviseable to fatten and sell him, as being then of a better flesh than if he was kept longer. For color the bay or red dim is best. — Modem Diet of Arts and Sciences, EARLY FRIENDSHIP. In earliest years, when tops and toys, And all the tribe of infant joys Fill'd up each happy day, each busy hour, E'en in the bud, half open'd yet, Its dyes but faint, its leaves scarce set, Peep'd forth young Friendship's timid, tender flower. The great old House-Dog, in whose face Rough worth, and all that's good had place ; With paw so broad, and velvet drooping jowls, Strech'd in the gun would roll for me, And with rude love, and awkward glee, IJalf clos'd his laughing eye, with merry growls. And when from off his brindled side Tke cold drops trickled down kis hide> EARLY FRIENDSHIP. 24£ And pierc'd with snowy winds, he trembled at the* door, The friendly latch was rais'd by me, And half my bread, and half my tea, Were giv'n to cheer his heart, and bid him droop no more. At length weigh'd down, and grey with years,;* The guard no more that still 'd my fears As through the wood, at eve, I trudg'd alone : Chang'd ^ as his hazel eye of fire, And dim the ray that could inspire My little heart with boldness not its own. Yet still he crawl'd to lick my feet, And choose his bed beside my seat, Look'd up, and wagg'd his tail when I was by <, And when quite blind, with lifted ears, Soon as the well known voice he hears, He told ('twas all he could) his friend was nigh! Poor faithful brute ! thy love so true Ne'er waned, as human friendships do ; Not e'en unkindness could thy zeal repress, For did one smile but beam on thee Forgot was every injury — .411, all o'erpaid, and lost in one caress ! 246 THE LAWS. Cold is thy good old heart ! and ne'er Shall voice of man this bosom cheer, As could thy cry that echoed to the morn, When scouring all the glittering heath, Like mist was seen thy streaming breath, That floated on the early breeze upborne. Tablet of Taste; THE LAWS. Is it not of vita! importance that the meat on which people feed should be healthful ? and to be healthful, is it not necessary that it should be taken from a healthy a> imal body, and not from a morbid carcase which has been starved, parched, beaten, bruised and tortured for the last 12, 24, or 48 hours, as the case may be* Our Board of Health, desirous of removing the most obvious causes of disease, gave this sub- ject their early attention. At the first appear- ance of the cholera in this c ty, the ht alth officer wrote to them (July 4, 1*32.) as follows: 44 1 deem it my duty to call the attention of the board to the manner in the which the butch- ers at the different markets, &c , keep their cajyes, shee; s and lambs lying in the street be* Core they are slaughtered, Annuals confined m THE LAWS. MT flits way, become diseased, and their meat is above all conducive to the ch le a morbus." Thereupon, the Board Resolved That the clerk of the market be instructed to prevent the sale of animals v* hich have been known to have been inhumanly and improperly confined and exposed, as being in the opinion of this board unwholesome meat, and subjecting persons to the penalty under corporation ordinance. And further, ihat the police justice be required to obtain the names of such persons to present to the grand jury, as an offence at common law, for cruelty to animals.'' The corporation have since, by law, prohibit- ed the slaughtering of animals whhin certain limits. But as the treatment of the brute crea- tures is removed from the observation of the citizens who are to derive their nourishment or disease from the meat; what guarantee have these citizens that the animals are not murdered with aggravated and protracted torture? if their inhuman usage v^as so glaring even in pub- lic markets, exposed to the gaze of the whole city, what must it be* in the private slaughter house or yard, uuseen, unheard, unnoticed % The remedy for this crying sin, this immense mm of need less cruelty towards inoffensive an€ 248 SHE LAWS. useful animals, and danger to the health and lives of our citizens, is simple Let the slaught- er houses, yards, &c., be open for the inspec- tion of all who take an interest in the subject, and let inspexiors be appointed to examine all slaughtering and packing establishments and to "bring to public exposure and condign punish- ment, all offenders. By the laws of the city of Albany (chap. 3. sec. 16.) " Any cartman who sh ill be guilty of cruelty to Ms Horse, shall be suspended from being a cartman and pay a fine of live dollars. 1 * Should not a similar additional punishment, for offending butchers and drovers, be added to the existing laws regulating the market ? Every physiologist knows the sudden and as- tonishing results arising from the transfusion of bluod ; every nurse knov\s the almost immedi- ate effect of h^r own lood upon the sucking child, and every reflecting mind must perceive the direct influence which the meat of a panting, fainting, thristing, fevered, agonized beast or fowl, must have on the system of those who feed on it The late Chancellor Livingston at- tributed most of the maladies which attend sheep, to injudicious treatment and over driving them, The philanthropic John Ho ward? du£* ^EHE LAWS. 4 M9 ing the latter years of his life, abstained from animal food, and thousands of other humane in- dividuals, have from principle, confined their food to vegetables, and their ex rnple would be followed by multitudes, were the cruelty of drovers, &c , fully exposed. There are regu- lar legal inspectors of weights and measures, and of the different branches of trades and craft, to prevent impositions and violations of the law. It is high time that we had legal officers, duly empowered and salaried, to inspect the slaugh- ter houses, humanize drovers, and farme s v and remove a most prolific source of cholera, by en- forcing the righteous penalties of THE L \ V\ S. Albany Daily JJdvcrtistr. Besides being an indictable offence at com- mon law, there are also several express statutes against cruelty, viz. : Ail running, trotting or pacing of horses or other animals, for any bet or stakes is a common and public nuisance and misdemeanor, and all persons concerned therein as principals or accessories, shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and punished by a fine not exceeding $500, or by imprisonment not exceeding one year. Chap, 20, Title 16. No person shall kill 250 THE LAWS. wild deer from January to July inclusive under the penalty of twelve dollars and a half. No person shall hunt, pursue or destroy wild deer with blood hound or beagles under like penalty. No person shall set traps, or spears, or sharp stakes to catch or kill deer, uodet $25 penalty, There is a penalty for destroying the heath- hen, partridge, woodcock, pheasant or quail, during their breeding time. Part \, chap. 1 title 5, art. 3 S sec. 16. Eve- ry person who shall willingly administer any poison to any horse, cattle or sheep, or shall maliciously expose any poisonous substance with intent that the same should be taken or swallowed by any hor^e. cattle, or sheep, shall upon conviction be punished by imprisonment in a state prison not exceeding three yrars, or in a county gaol not exceeding '»ne year, or by a fine not exceeding two hundred and hfty dollars, or by both floe and imprisonment. Title 6, § 23. E ery person who shall ma- liciously kill, maim or wound, any horse, ox or other cattle, or any sheep belonging to another; or shall maliciously and cruelly beat, or torture gny such animal whether belonging to himself or AFRICAN SLAVERY. 251 another, shall upon conviction be adjudged guilty of a misdemeanor, Revised Statutes of N. York. Any person who shall confine, or aid or as- sist in confining any bull, steer or domesticated animal by tiemg or penning for the purpose of bull-baiting or bear-baiting, or other purpose of torture, or shall aid or assist in torturing the same by dogs, whips, spears or other instru- ments, shall forfeit arid pay a sum nor exceed! ig one hundred dollars. Laws of Ohio. AFRICAN SLAVERY. Though the Africans were an inferior race, still we have no right to debase ourselves by cruelty, no- to use them ill, for even the beasts are entitled to gentle treatment ; besides, as far as slaves are sup, .osed to be animals, they must be incapable of moral accountability, and to punish them for crimi- nal conduct, must be both absurd and cruel. Meattie. O ! Does not mercy shudder to behold Life-freedom barter'd lor a Christian's gold ! Yes — mark the wretch, who, torn from Congo's sands, Uplifts in vain his supplicating hands : Condemn'd by pow'r, by trade's unfeeling lust A ♦n Freedom's soil to bow his neck to dust, ^52 1T0 THE 6BNTUS OP AFRICA, Inhuman deed ! with systematic plan, To sell the 1 fe — the liberty of man ! And say, ye statesmen, coldly, who discuss The fate of him who sadly suffers thus, Do long subjection and unceasing toil, The scourge, the chains, the fetter and the soil,, . Unhinge, undo the mental fabric so, That nature loves habituated woe ; That stripes are pleasures, and that men set free Would weep for freedom as a misery ? Thus, thus will Trade unconquer'd still by time, Raise her base voice to cloak the hellish crime ; Thus will she lift the lash : and lifting smile, As blood-earn'd-lucre centers in her soil. Poor friendless Slave ! though sable is thy skin,, Thou art a Man — thou hast a soul within ! Poor wretch alas ! when will your woes be o'er* And tyrant-stripes extort the groan no more ! Humfrey. TO THE GENIUS OF AFRICA. O thou, who from the mountain's height Roll'st down thy clouds with all their weight Of waters to old Nile's majestic tide ; Or o'er the dark sepulchral plain, Eecailest Carthage in her ancient pride 3 The Mistress of the Main \ TO THE GENIUS OF AFRICA. 253 Hear Genius, hear thy Children's cry ! Not always should'st thou 1 )ve to brood Stern o'er the desert solitude, Where seas of Sand toss their hot surges high 4 Nor, Genius, should the mid ight song Detain thee in some milder mood The palmy plains among, Where Gambia to the torch's light Flows radiant thro 5 the awaken' d nighty Ah linger not to hear the song ! Genius, avenge thy Children's wrong! The Demon Commerce on your shore - Pours all the horrors of his train, And hark ! where from the field of gore Howls the hyena o'er the slain ! Lo ! where the flaming village fires the skies? Avenging Power awake ! — arise ! Arise, thy children's wrongs redress ! Ah! heed the mother's wretchedness, When in the hot infectious air, O erher sick babe she bows opprest—* Ah hear her when the Christians tear The dropping infant from her breast ; Whelm'd in the waters he shall rest I Hear thou the wretched mother's cries, Avenging Power, awake ! arise ! 254 SLAVERY. By the rank infectious air That taints those dungeons of despair i By those who there imprison 'd die; Where the black herd promiscuous lie ; By the scourges crimsoned o er, And stiff and hard with human gore, By every groan of deep distress; By every curse of wretchedness ; By all the train of Crimes that flow From the hopelessness of Woe ; By every drop of blood bespilt, By Afric's wrongs and Europe's guilt, Awake ! arise ! avenge ! Southty. There are, gloomy Ocean ! a brotherless clan, Who traverse thy banishing waves, The poor disinherited outcasts of Man, Whom Avarice coins into Slaves ! From the homes of their kindred, their forefathers' graves. Love, Friendship, and Conjugal Bliss, They are dragg'd on the hoary abyss. The shark hears their shrieks, and ascending to- day, Demands of the spoiler his share of the prey ! SLAVERY. 255 Then joy to the tempest that whelms them be- neath, And makes their destruction its sport : But woe to the winds that propitiously breathe, And waft them in safety to port ; Where the vultures and vampires of Mammon re- sort ; Where Europe exultingly drains The life-blood from Africa veins ; Where the image of God is accounted as base, And the image of Cesar set up in its place. Montgomery. 1 "That men have the same dispositioi' to out- " rage humanity in their conduct towards their" " fellow men as towards animate, and that they 66 give it free scope, when custom and the ab- " sence or neglect of laws permit* is apparent "from the concurrent his ory of all countries, in " every age. Witness the degradation and " misery of the Helots of Sparta a id of the hu- " man slaves of Rome ; the horrible barbarities " inflicted by their fellow men on the natives of "India and Africa and America ; the practice " common throughout the world of reducing " whole nation to bondage by conquest ; th* hu- " man sacrifices at Otaheite, and elsewhere; •'the exposure of their o n infants by the " Chinese and by the Hindoos, who also bury 256 SLAVERY, ei alive their widows, and the atrocious arts of •' robbers, pirates, libertines and other criminals. " Besides captives by war and those who are " born slaves, the remaining portion of the hu- 4i man race are in the power and at the mercy "of their fellow men, though from the partial 64 protection of the law and custom, in a less de- " gree than animals. All the subjects of des- " potic governments, and in others, and soldiers, " sailors, apprentices, servants, debtors wives " and children, paupers and those defentive in "mind or body as idiots, manics, the blind, the " deaf a?'d dumb, and the cripple, are princN " pally dependent for their happiness or misery 11 on the justice and humanity of those who have " authority over them. 4f In these and all other cases of partial and " of absolute slavery the evil arises only from " the abuse of the power of the master — *ere " he just and generous, the greater his power* " the proportionally greater good would be its " consequence. " Liberty itself is desirable only as affording ii exemption — not from the kind assistance and " enlightened benevolence of a superior, but ■" from the arbitrary and eruel control of a ty- i ; r an t. " Hippobion* AFRICAN SLAVERY. 257 Slavery is not useful either to the master or to the slave ; to the slave, because he can do nothing by virtue; to the master, because he contracts with his slaves all sorts of evil habits, inures himself insensibly to neglect every mo- ral virtue, and becomes proud, passionate, hard- hearted, violent, voluptuous, and cruel. The slave sees a society happy ? whereof he is not even a part ; he finds that security is establish- ed for others, but not for him; he perceives that his master has a soul capable of self-advance- ment, while his own is violently and forever re- pressed. Nothing puts one nearer the condition of the beasts than always to see freemen and not to be free. Such a parson i§ the natural enemy of the society in which he lives. Montesquieu. It is well observed by the wisest of poets, (as Atheneus quoting the passage justly calls) Homer, who lived when slavery was common, and whose knowledge of the human heart is unquestionable, that, " When a man is made a slave, he loses from that day the half of his virtue." And Longinus, quoting the same pas- sage, affirms, " Slavery, however mild, may still be called the poison of the soul, and a pub- lic dungeon." And Tacitus remarks, that, 17 258 AFRICAN SLAVERY. "Even wild animals lose their spirit when de- prived of their freedom." All history proves, and every rational philosopher admits, that as liberty promotes virtue and genius, slavery de. bases the understanding and corrupts the heart of both the slave and the master, and that in a greater or less degree, as it is more or less se- vere. So that in this plea of the slave-monger, we have an example of that diabolical casuistry, whereby the tempter and corrupter endeavors to vindicate or gratify himself, by accusing those whom he himself has tempted or corrupted. Slavery is inconsistent with the dearest and most essential rights of man's nature ; it is de- trimental to virtue and to industry ; it hardens the heart to those tender sympathies which form the most lovely part of human character; it in- volves the innocent in hopeless misery, in order to procure [superfluous] wealth and pleasure for the authors of that misery; it seeks to degrade into brutes, beings whom the lord of heaven and earth endowed with rational souls, and created for immortality ; in short it is utterly repugnant to every principle of reason, religion, humanity and conscience. It is impossible for a consid- erate and unprejudiced mind to think of slavery without horror. That a man, a rational and AFRICAN SLAVERY. 259 immortal being, should be treated on the same footing with a beast or piece of wood, and bought and sold, and entirely subjected to the will of ano' ther man, whose equal he is by nature, and whose superior he may be in virtue and understanding, and all for no crime, but merely because he was born in a certain country, or of certain parents, or be- cause he differs from us in the shape of his nose, the color of his slcin, or the size of his lips; if this be equitable or excusable, or pardonable, it is vain to talk any longer of the eternal distinctions of right and wrong, truth andjalsehood, good and evil. It has been said that negroes are animals of a na- ture inferior to man, between whom and the brutes, they hold, as it were, the middle place. But though this were true, it would not follow, that we have a right, either to debase ourselves by a habit of cruelty, or to use them ill ; for even beasts, if inoffensive, are entitled to gentle treatment, and we have reason to believe that they who are not merciful will not obtain mercy. Besides if we were to admit this theory, we should be much at a loss to determine whether the negro does really partake so much of the brute, as to lose that right of liberty which, un- less it be forfeited by criminal conduct, is inhe- rent in every human, or at least, in every ra* 260 AFRICAN SLAVERY. tional being. And further, in the same propor- tion in which black men are supposed to be brutes, they must be supposed incapable of mo- ral notions, and consequently not accountable for their conduct, and therefore to punish them as criminals, must always be in a certain degree, both absurd and cruel. But, I think, that our planters know both negroes and mulattoes too well to have any doubt of their being men. The very soil becomes more fertile under the hands of freemen. " Liberty and property," says the intelligent Le Poivre, "form the basis of abun- dance and good agriculture. I never observed it to flourish where those rights of mankind were not firmly established. The earth which multiplies her productions with profusion under the hands of the free-born laborer, seems to shrink into barrenness under the sweat of the slave." The same sentiments are found in Pliny and Columella, who both impute the de- cay of husbandry, in their time, not to any de- ficiency in the soil, but to the unwise policy of leaving to the management of slaves, those fields, which, says Pliny, "had formerly re- joiced under the laurelled ploughshare and the triumphant ploughman." Rollin, with good reason, imputes to the same cause the present AFRICAN SLAVERY. 261 barrenness of Palestine, which in ancient times was called the land flowing with milk and honey. James Beattie, It is the gracious ordinance of Providence, both in the natural and moral world, that, good should often arise out of evil. Hurricanes clear the air, and the propagation of truth was promoted by persecution. The Arab was hos- pitable and the robber brave. But here the case was far otherwise. It was the prerogative of the detestable traffic in slaves to seperate from evil its concomitant good, and to reconcile discordant mischiefs. It robbed war of its ge- nerosity ; it deprived peace of its security ; we see in it the vices of polished society, without the knowledge or the comforts ; and the evils of barbarism without the simplicity. No age, no sex, no rank, no condition, was exempt from the fatal influence of this wide-wasting calamity. Thus it had attained to the fullest measure of complete, unmixed, unsophisticated wickedness ; and scorning all competition and comparison, it stood without a rival in the secure, undisputed possession of its detestable pre-eminence. Wilberforce. Political freedom is undoubtedly a great bles- sing, but when it is compared with personal, it 262 AFRICAN SLAVERY. sinks to nothing. Personal freedom is the first right of every human being. It is a right of which he who deprives a fellow creature is abso- lutely criminal in so depriving him, and which he who withholds is no less criminal in withholding. Shall we sanction enormities, the bare recital of which makes us shudder? Humanity does not consist in a squeamish ear, nor in shrinking and starting at tales of horrible cruelty, but in a disposition of heart to remedy the evils they unfolded. Humanity belongs to the mind as well as the nerves ; but, if so, it should prompt men to charitable exertions. Shall we continue the wholesale sacrifice of a whole order and race of our fellow creatures ; and subject them to the mere will and caprice, the tyranny and oppres- sion of other human beings, for their whole natural lives, them and their posterity forever ! ! O most monstrous wickedness ! O unparallel- ed barbarity ! Charles J. Fox. The whole commerce between master and slave, is a perpetual exercise of the most boist- erous passions, the most unremitting dispotism on one part, and degrading submission on the other. Our children see this, and learn to imi- tate it ; for man is an imitative animal. This quality is the germ of all education in him, AFRICAN SLAVERY. 263 From his cradle to his grave he is learning to do what he sees others do. The parent storms, the child looks on, catches the linea- ments of wrath, puts on the same airs in a smaller circle of slaves, gives a loose to his worst passions, and thus nursed, educated, and daily exercised in tyranny, cannot but be stamped with odious peculiarities. And with what exe- cration should the statesman be loaded, who, permitting one half the citizens thus to trample on the rights of the other, transforms those into despots, and these into enemies, destroys the morals of one part, and the amor patriae [pat- rotism] of the other. With the morals of the people, their industry is also destroyed. For in a warm climate, no man will labor for himself who can make ano- ther labor for him. This is so true, that of the proprietors of slaves, a very small proportion indeed are ever seen to labor. And can the liberties of a nation be thought secure, when we have removed their only basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are the gift of God ? That they are not to be violated but with his wrath ? Indeed I tremble for my country, when I reflect that God is just ; that his justness cannot sleep for- 264 AFRICAN SLAVERY. ever; that considering numbers, nature and natural means only, a revolution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of situation is among pos- sible events ; that it may become probable by supernatural interference ! The Almighty has no attribute which can take side with us in such a contest. Jefferson. From the Genius of Universal Emancipation. Much has been said by the advocates and apo- logists of slavery, about the danger of emanci- pation — that it would be accompanied or follow- ed by insurrections, massacres and servile war. Now no sane man desires to turn loose upon so- ciety, a horde of ignorant men, either white or black, without the salutary restraints of law. We wish to see the assumed right of property in human flesh abolished, and the laws made for the protection, as well as for the government and restraint, of every man of every nation and color. To place every man under the protection of the law, and to abolish that licentiousness and tyranny which are now tolerated, would be to restore society to its natural order, and give every man an interest in the preservation of the peace and harmony of the community. All fear of hostility and temptations to excite insurrec- tions, or to shed the blood of the white men, AFRICAN SLAVERY. 265 would be banished with the removal of the causes which produce them. In all cases where the experiment has been tried, [in the West Indian Islands,] our reasoning from the nature of man, and the influence which just treatment will al- ways exert on his moral character, has been proved by incontestible facts. Evan Lewis. The Africans in the United States consist of upwards of two millions of slaves, and nearly half a million admitted to a very limited state of freedom. Slavery is that condition enforced by the laws of one-half of the States of this confe- deracy, in which one portion of the community, called masters, is allowed such power over ano- ther portion called slaves ; as, 1. To deprive them of the entire earnings of their own labor, except only so much as is necessary to continue labor itself, by continuing healthful existence, thus committing clear rob- bery. 2. To reduce them to the necessity of uni- versal concubinage, by denying to them the civil rights of marriage ; thus breaking up the dearest relations of life, and encouraging univer- sal prostitution. 3. To deprive them of the means and op- portunities of moral and intellectual culture, in 266 AFRICAN SLAVERY. many States making it high penal offence to teach them to read ; thus perpetuating whatever of evil there is that proceeds from ignorance. 4. To set up between parents and their chil- dren an authority higher than the impulse of nature and the laws of God ; which breaks up the authority of the father over his own off- spring, and, at pleasure, separates the mother at a returnless distance from her child ; thus abro- gating the clearest laws of nature ; thus outraging all decency and justice; degrading and oppressing thousands upon thousands of beings created like themselves in the image of the most high God! This is slavery as it is daily exhibited in every slave state. This is that " dreadful but unavoidable necessity," for which you may hear so many mouths uttering excuses in all parts of the land. And is it really so ? If in- deed it be ; if that " necessity which tolerates this condition be really "unavoidable" in any such sense, that we are constrained for one mo- ment to put off the course of conduct which shall most certainly and most effectually subvert a system which is utterly indefensible on every correct human principle, and utterly abhorrent from every law of God, — then, indeed, let Ich- abop be graven in letters of terrific light upon AFRICAN SLAVERY. 267 our country ! For God can no more sanction such perpetual wrong, than he can cease to be faithful to the glory of his own throne! We utter but the common sentiment of man- kind when we say, none ever continue slaves a moment after they are conscious of their ability to retrieve their freedom. The constant ten- dency for fifty years has been to accumulate the black population upon the southern States ; already in some of them the blacks exceed the whites, and in most of them increased above the increase of the whites in the same States, with a ratio that is absolutely startling ; [the annu- al increase in the U. S. is 60,000 ;] the slave population could bring into action a larger pro- portion of efficient men, perfectly inured to hard- ships, to the climate, and privations, than any other population in the world ; and they have in distant sections, and on various occasions, manifested already a desperate purpose to shake off the yoke. In such an event we ask not any heart to decide where would human sympathy and earthly glory stand ; we ask not in the fear- ful words of Jefferson, what attribute of Jehovah would allow him to take part with us ; we ask only — and the answer settles the argument — which is like to be the stronger side f 268 AFRICAN SLAVERY. Slavery cannot endure. The just, and gene- rous, and enlightened hearts and minds of those who own the slaves will not allow the system to endure. State after state, the example has caught and spread — New-England — New-York — the Middle States on the seaboard; one after another have taken the question up, and decided it, all alike. The state of slavery is ruinous to the community that tolerates it, under all possi- ble circumstances ; and is most cruel and un- just to its victims. No community that can be induced to examine the question, will, if it be wise, allow such a canker in its vitals ; nor, if it be just, permit such wrong. We argue from the nature of the case, and the constitution of man. All masters are commanded ci to give unto their servants that which is just and equal!" and to what feature of slavery may that descrip- tion apply ? Just and equal ! what care I whe- ther my pockets are picked, or the proceeds of my labor are taken from me ? What matters it whether my horse is stolen or the value of him in my labor be taken from me? Do we talk of violating the rights of masters, and depriving them of their property in their slaves ? And will some one tell us, if there be any thing in which a man has, or can have, so perfect a right AFRICAN SiAVBRY. 269 of property, as to his own limbs, bones and sinews ? Out upon such folly ! The man who cannot see that involuntary domestic slavery, as it exists among us, is founded upon the princi- ple of taking by force that which is another's, has simply no moral sense. And he who pre- sumes that God will approve and reward habit- ual injustice and wrong, is ignorant alike of God, and of his own heart. It is equally easy to apply to the institution of slavery every law of Christianity, and show its repugnance to each and every one of them. Undeniably it is con- trary to the revealed will of God ; and so the General Assembly of our Church have solemn- ly, and righteously, and repeatedly ordained. "We consider," says that body in 1818, " the voluntary enslaving of one part of the human race by another, as a gross violation of the most precious and sacred rights of human nature ; as utterly inconsistent with the law of God, which requires us to love our neighbors as ourselves ; and and as totally irreconcileable with the spirit and principles of the gospel of Christ, which en- joins that all things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them." Nature, and reason, and religion unite in their hostility to this system of folly and 270 AFRICAN SLAVERY. crime. How it will end time only can reveal ; but the light of heaven is not clearer than that it must end. Robert J. Breclcenridge. Man finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not color d like his own; and having pow'r T enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey. Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys; And worse than all, and most to be deplor'd As human nature's broadest, foulest blot, Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat With stripes that mercy with a bleeding heart Weeps when she sees inflicted on a beast. Then what is man? And what man seeing this, And having human feelings, does not blush And hang his head, to think himself a man? I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. No ! dear as freedom is, and in my heart's Just estimation priz'd above all price, I had much rather be myself the slave, And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him. The tender ties of parent, husband, friend, All bonds of Nature — all in slavery end. On most degrading of all ills that wait AFRICAN SLAVERY. 271 On man, (a mourner in his best estate!) All other sorrows, virtue may endure, And find submission more than half a cure; But Slavery ! ! Virtue dreads it as her grave, Patience itself is meanness in a slave. Wait then the dawning of a brighter day, And snap the chain the moment when you may. Nature imprints upon whate'er we see That has a heart and life in it, u Be Free!" Cowper. I have often longed to go to America, but as long as that country is tarnished with slavery, I will never pollute my feet by treading on its shores. I have felt it a necessary duty to ar- raign the conduct of the Russian despot for his cruelty to the men, women, and children of Po- land, but much as I detest his actions, there is a climax to my hatred — " in the deepest hell, there is a depth still more profound," and that is to be found in the conduct of the American slave-owners, They laid the foundation of their liberty, by declaring the self-evident 'truths that " All men are created equal — and endowed with the unalienable rights of Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness," and still have the atro- cious and murderous injustice to hold their bro- ther men in slavery. Daniel O'Connell. 272 AFRICAN SLAVERY. *& fit**^ QJ^ Oh Afric! — fam'd in story, The nurse of Egypt's might, A cloud is on thy glory, And quench' d thine ancient Hght; Ah thou — the stricken hearted, — The scorn' d of every land, Thy diadem departed, Dost stretch thy fetter' d hand. How long shall misery wring thee, And none arise to save? And every billow bring thee Sad tidings from the slave? Mrs, Sigourney. AFRICAN SLAVERY. 273 General Koskiusko, by his will, placed in the hands of Mr. Jefferson, a sum exceeding 20,000 dollars, to be laid out in the purchase of young female slaves, who were to be educated and emancipated. The laws of Virginia prevented the will of Koskiusko from being carried into effect. Aurora. In the year 1787, two societies were estab- lished in Philadelphia, founded on principles of the most refined and liberal humanity : The Philadelphia Society for alleviating the miseries of public prisons, and the Pennsylvania Society for promoting the abolition of slavery, the relief of free negroes unlawfully held in bondage, and the improvement of the condition of the African race. Of each of these Dr. Franklin was pre- sident. His name as president of the Abolition Society, was signed to the memorial to the U. S. House of Representatives, Feb. 12, 1789, praying them to exert the full extent of power vested in them by the Constitution, in discou- raging the traffic of the human species. This was his last public act. Franklin's Biography. Extract from Dr. Primatt. In his " Dissertation on the duty of mercy, and on the sin of cruelty to brute-animals," he ' 18 274 AFRICAN SLAVERY. takes occasion to advert to the subject of the African slave-trade. " It has pleased God," says he, " to cover some men with white skins, and others with black ; but as there is neither merit nor demerit in complexion, the white man, notwithstanding the barbarity of custom and pre- judice, can have no right by virtue of his color to enslave and tyrannize over the black man. For whether a man be white or black, such he is by God's appointment, and, abstractedly con- sidered, is neither a subject for pride, nor an object of contempt.-' Jin Example. — There shall be neither slavery i;ol" involuntary servitude in this state, other- wise than for the punishment of crimes, whereof the party shall have been duly convicted. Nor shall any indenture of any negro or mulatto, hereafter made and executed out of the bounds of this state, be of any validity within this state. ■—Constitution of Indiana. — [Those of Ohio and Illinois are similar.] Thy spirit, Independence! let me share, Lord of the Lion-heart and Eagle-eye ; — Thy steps I'll follow with my bosom bare,- Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. Smollett. SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. 275 THE INDIANS. Thousands have raised their voices against the wrongs of our black brethren of Africa, while but few have been stimulated to similar ex- ertions in behalf of the red American Indians, from whose native soil the wealth of a great portion of the civilized world has been derived. The African is submissive ; his patient endu- rance of labor renders his servile and debased state important to us ; he is therefore, preserv- ed. The North American Indian, on the con- trary, prefers banishment, and even death, to slavery ; but Ms lands are serviceable to us, therefore his extinction seems to be desired. The one submits to the yoke — we oppress and pity him : the other disdains to become the ser- vant of man — and his whole race is devoted to gradual extermination ; for such must be the inevitable consequence of all those measures which have been, and still are in operation against him, though their infliction is marked by different shades of guilt. In a few ages, per- haps a few years, these sons of Edom will be so far removed from the reach or eye of any but those engaged in the work of destruction, 276 THE INDIANS. that no trace will be left to posterity of the wrongs which have been perpetrated upon the Aborigines of the great American Continent. Their virtues, independence of mind, and noble- ness of character, have procured from their op- pressors, as a justification of those measures of of severity which have been practised toward them, the most foul and unjust representations. They have been gradually wasting away from the effects of cruelty and oppression, unheeded and unpitied, until their aggregate numbers, it is conjectured, has been reduced to less than two millions. A sufficient number, however, yet remains to excite our sympathy. The wrongs which have been inflicted upon their whole race, have furnished ample regions for the occupancy of civilized man. And does not our past neglect of their suffering and abandon- ed state, loudly call upon us to make reparation for the ills they have endured, and to return to acts of justice, mercy, and kindness. James Buchanan's Indian Sketches. Aristotle the chief of ancient philosophers, being reproached for giving money to a bad man, who was in want, answered with his usual accuracy of distinction, " I did not give to the man, but to Humanity." SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 277 BEJVEVOIiEJVCE. Wide as the sun her high dominion spreads, Heav'n-born Benevolence her bounty sheds. She, meek-ey'd goddess, quits the angelic sphere, To banish grief, and dry the human tear. Plenty's rich urn her willing arms sustain, Life, Hope, and Joy, exulting in her train. Her ear is open to the orphan's cry, Her soul expanding, as the poor pass by. From her blest tongue, the words of manna flow, And carry Courage to desponding Wo. Objects of aid she seeks through all the land, Diffusing bounty with a saviour's hand. Thro' prison-bars she darts a pitying eye, Her heart responsive, echoing sigh for sigh; Nor" scorns she e'en the malefactor's chain: She mourns his guilt — but mitigates his pain. The wretch she asks not in what climate bred, To what profession or religion wed; That's not the subject of her mission there— To succor all who want is all her care. These are, O bright Benevolence, thy ways, And these the solid basis of thy praise ! 278 PUGILISM. When Caesar's fame, and Bonaparte's are past, Th' effects of thy philanthropy shall last. In nature's wreck, the juster fates shall see Distinguish' d worth; and fix their eyes on thee: A preference far thy honest heart shall find, Before the proud destroyers of mankind. Their lapsing honors shall forbear to save: And thy blest name shall triumph o'er the grave. The Looking- Glass for the Mind. PUGIIilSM. Humane and considerate men cannot observe, without concern, the prevalence of a taste for any diversion which contributes to the degrada- tion of human nature. That the taste for box- ing, unhappily revived in the present age, has such a tendency, cannot be doubted by those who duly reflect on the principle from which it proceeds, and the consequence it tends to pro- duce. Such a taste must proceed from gross ignorance of better and more manly pleasures, and from a savage heart, restrained only by human laws, from the actual perpetration of the worst cruelty. The consequences of this taste, to individuals and to society, are truly deplorable. When the PUGILISM. 279 combat is announced, ail the vilest members of the community are eager to partake in an amusement congenial to their corrupted natures. The scene of action is crowded with an assem- blage of wretches, who conduct, under their tri- umphant banners, riot, intemperance, violence ; who defy all civil order, all decency, every thing, for which laws were enacted, and society estab- lished. A successful example is given of diso- bedience to law, which paves the way to an- archy, revolt, and rebellion. An insult is offer- ed to the civil magistracy, which those who en- courage it may hereafter rue, when they feel the consequent depredations on their property, their persons, and their peace. The lower orders are taught to believe, what indeed they are at all times ready to suppose, that there is an excellence, which the greatest men in the nation may admire, in the exercise of a mere brute force, in defeating their neigh- bor by violence, without equity ; and in striking a terror into the minds of the good and orderly, who are not endowed with muscular vigor and superior size. Government was instituted to protect the weak against the strong; but the boxing rage contributes to increase the tendency of the strong to injure and oppress the weak. 280 PUGILISM. It has been the scope of all who have labored in the civilization of mankind, to soften the na- tive ferocity of the human heart, to control its propensity to violence and cruelty, to infuse a spirit of mutual benevolence, and teach a wil- lingness to leave the redress of private wrongs to public justice. But the boxing mania does all that can be done in the present enlightened times, to bring back man to his original barba- rity, to ignorance, to selfishness, to injustice, to contempt of laws, to infringement of property, to every base and destructive action and inclin- ation which the laws of God and man have uni- formly prohibited, To bear blows without regarding the pain, to inflict blows without feeling reluctance or com- passion, argues, indeed, an insensibility of body and mind ; but insensibility can never be deem- ed a perfection ; can never produce that sort of courage which derives force from conduct, that sort of manliness which owes its value to its origin in reason. An attempt to reduce men merely to machines, in the hands of their supe- riors, is of so base and ungenerous a nature, that it ought to be reprobated by all who have any real manliness in their character. The plough and the anvil, the axe and the PUGILISM. 2S1 hammer, will always supply a race of men with sinews strong enough to undergo all the hard- ships and labor of war ; and the native senti- ments of such a race, in a land of liberty, will always produce a spirit sufficiently manly, with- out encouraging any practices which are, of ne- cessity, cruel and savage. Cruelty, of every kind and degree, has in it something inherently base and dastardly, and never can be compata- ble with real heroism. It may make a bully and an assassin, but neither a hero nor a patriot. That it is not a manly spectacle to behold two fellow-creatures injuring each other as much as they can, by brute force, is, I think, evident from what has been already said ; and that it is not an improving spectacle, is equally clear, if it be true that the heart, by becoming familiar with scenes of suffering and violence, becomes obdurate at the^ sight; forgets its best quality, compassion; and feels less reluctance at inflict- ing pain when under the influence of irascible affections ; and that this is true, none will deny, who know the force of habit, and the proneness of the mind to evil. The taste arises among the lower orders, from natural brutality, or a wish to get money by entertaining their superiors in rank, who have disgracefully professed them- 282 PUGILISM. selves amateurs of the practice. In the high ranks it arises from thoughtlessness, wanton- ness, and a gross ignorance of better modes of spending time — filling the chasms with science, polite arts, and philosophy. B ut there is one great teacher who will be heard ; and whose arrival may probably be accelerated by reducing the science, which they admire, to practice. His instructions will cause them to see their conduct in a new light, and to despise their choice of spending the short space of life allotted to man, in a behavior more brutal than that of the beasts who perish, but who never exhibit the bloody effects of rage, except when they are impelled by real passion, in defence of iheir young, or the necessities of hunger. Vicesimus Knox, lt He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents lo death but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — The arena swims around him — he is gone Ere ceased the inhuman shout which haiPd the. wretch who won !" Byron. Had the poet always felt and written in the same strain, he might have claimed [also] the higher rank of one of the first of moralists. What must we think of the state of degradation AMIABLENESS. 283 in which the Roman people were sunk, when the sight of human blood was necessary to gra- tify their passion for novelty, and to preserve to their rulers a temporary popularity? Cru- elty, ferocity, cowardice and laziness, were the vices cherished by such odious sights ; and it is a fact that ought never to be lost sight of by those who wish to improve the character of so- ciety, that to be taught to look with indifference on the sufferings of any living object, is the first lesson in cruelty. The Penny Magazine. AMIABXjENESS. Since trifles make the sum of human things, And half our misery from our foibles springs ; Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease, And few can save or serve, but all can please : Oh! let the ungentle spirit learn from hence, A small unkindness is a real offence. Large bounties to bestow, we wish in vain; But all may shun the guilt of giving pain, To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth, With power to grace them, or to crown with health, Our little lot denies; but Heav'n decrees To all, the gift of minist'ring to ease 284 ELEMENTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. The gentle offices of patient love, Beyond all flattery, and all price above; The mild forbearance of another's fault; The taunting word suppress' d as soon as thought; On these, heav'n bade the sweets of life depend; And crushed ill-fortune when it made a friend. A solitary blessing few can find; Our joys with those we love are intertwin'd; And he whose wakeful tenderness removes Th' obstructing thorn which wounds the friend he loves: Smooths not another's rugged path alone; But scatters roses to adorn his own. Small slights, contempt, neglect, unmix' d with hate. Make up in number what they want in weight: These and a thousand griefs minute as these, Corrode our comforts and destroy our peace. More. ELiEMElVTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. There is in our nature a tendency to partici- pate in the pains and pleasures of others; so that their good is in some degree our good, and their evil our evil ; the natural effects of which is to unite men more closely to one another, by ELEMENTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. 285 prompting them even for their own sake, to re- lieve distress and to promote happiness. This participation of the joys and sorrows of others may be termed sympathy or fellow-feeling. Even for some inanimate things we have a sort of tenderness. Toward the brute creation who have feeling as well as we, though not always in the same degree or kind, our sympathy is more rational, and indeed ought to be strong. ic A righteous man regardeth the life," and is not insensible to the happiness " of his beast." But our sympathy operates most powerfully towards our fellow-men. Some people, however, have a sort of negative honesty, but are destitute of delicacy. From injury punishable by law, they may abstain, but they often give such offence as amounts not to injury only, but to cruelty. Sympathy with distress is thought so essential to human nature, that its absence is called in- humanity. Inconsiderate men are seldom ten- derhearted, and mere want of reflection, leads children into acts of cruelty. Let us cherish sympathy, for by education and habit it may be greatly improved. " True self love and social are the same." A rational self love or desire of our own happiness tends to happiness univer- sal ; for that must be beneficial to the species, 286 ELEMENTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. which, without injury to any promotes the good of the individual, even as that which removes disease from one of the limbs, contributes to the health of the whole body. Self love so ex cessive as to injure others, or selfishness is a hateful disposition. By doing good to others, we do indeed also most effectually gratify our- selves ; for what can give more pleasure than the reflection, that we have been instrumental in promoting the happiness of others? He who does good to one person from a benevolent principle, lays an obligation on the whole spe- cies ; for he sets a good example, and shows that he has the interest of mankind at heart. Our love of good men, therefore, partakes of the nature of gratitude. Patriotism, has, in all ages under free governments, been accounted a sublime virtue. A particular regard also, for kindred, friends, neighbors, &c. is beneficial, as it promotes the gobd of small societies, where- of the great community of mankind is made up ; but neither this, nor the love of country itself, should ever interfere with the still greater duty of Universal Benevolence. It is our duty to defend our country, and maintain its laws and liberties ; even as it is incumbent on each indi- vidual to take care of himself— of those who de- ELEMENTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. 287 pend on him — and of those whom he has it in his power to protect from injury ; but neither individuals, nor nations, have any right to raise themselves, by injuriously pulling down others. Cruelty and torture are the engines of arbitra- ry power. Their aim is to frighten the subject ; and they always proceed from fear in the sove- reign, [or tyrant who employs them ;] they shock humanity,, and render government unpop- ular, without answering any one good purpose. Benevolence towards the brute creation is called humanity or tender-heartedness, and very properly, for he who is cruel to his beast would be so to his servant or neighbor if he durst. Useful and inoffensive animals have a claim to our tenderness : and it is honorable to our na- ture to befriend them by exposing them to no unnecessary hardships, making their lives as comfortable as we can, and if we must destroy them, putting an end to their pain in an instant. Some people contract a fondness for certain an- imals, as horses and dogs, which indeed are fur- nished by nature with the means of recommend- ing themselves to us in various ways. This is improper when so excessive as to withdraw our affections from mankind ; it also often counter- acts benevolence, as where it imprisons for life 288 ELEMENTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. a singing bird or other animal; mangles the ears of a dog, or tail of a horse, or corrupts a child by indulgence and flattery. A tenderness and love of the social affection and charities, not only humanize the heart of man, and give a pe- culiar and exquisite relish to all the comforts of domestic life, but also cherish that elevating principle, a sense of honor which heightens the gracefulness, and adds to the stability even of virtue itself. All the things in this world may be reduced to three classes, rational, irrational and inani- mate- Of rational beings it is irrational to make property, so as to buy or sell them, or give them away into the absolute disposal of an- other. Inanimate things may be made property of, because without them we could not subsist, and because they would be useless if we and oth- er animals did not use them. Irrational animals may also be appropriated, both for labor and for food ; provided it be done in such a manner as to promote the good of man, who is the chief in- habitant of this world, without doing injury to them. Animals that would destroy us if they could, we have a right to destroy, [when neces- sary] in self-defence. To many others of a milder nature, our protection may be a great be- ELEMENTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. 289 nefit, and death with a little or no pain, is a less misfortune than a lingering death would be. But let it be remembered, that all animals are percipient beings, and ought to be treated with no unreasonable or unavoidable rigor ; and per- mitted to suffer as little pain as may be ; and when we have occasion to kill them, we ought to do it, if possible, in an instant. — J. Beattie. To prevent the dangerous consequences of too much study, Mr. Beattie put his son James Hay, to archer} 7 , fishing, and fowling ; but he left off the last, from principles of humanity, although he continued the practice of angling, as thinking there could be nothing wrong, in that which was practised by the first teachers of Christianity : but never engaged in any species of it, which ten- ded to give great pain, or protract the sufferings of the poor animals. — Life of J. Hay Beattie. First of all, the wild mischievous animals were selected for food, and then the birds and fishes were dragged to slaughter ; next the human ap- petite directed itself against the laborious ox, the useful and fleece-bearing sheep, and the cock, the guardian of the house. At last, by this preparatory discipline, man became matured for human massacres, slaughters and wars. Plautus. 19 290 SPIRIT Or HUMANITY. SENSIBILITY* Let not the vulgar scoff the pensive strain, Their jests the tender anguish would profane; Yet these some deem the happiest of their kind, Whose low enjoyments never reach the mind: Who ne'er a pain but for themselves have known; Nor ever felt a sorrow but their own: Who call romantic, every finer thought Conceiv'd by pity, or by friendship wrought. Ah! wherefore happy? whereas the kindred mind? Where the large soul that takes in human kind? Where the best passions of the mortal breast? Where the warm blessing, when another's blest? Where the soft lenitives of others' pain, The social sympathy — the sense humane? The sigh of rapture and the tear of joy; Anguish that charms, and transports that destroy? For tender sorrow has her pleasures too; Pleasures which prosperous dulness never knew ! She never knew in all her coarser bliss The sacred rapture of a pain like this ! Nor thinks the cautious only are the just. Who never was deceiv'd I would not trust. Then take, ye happy vulgar!, take your part Of sordid joy, that never touch'd the heart. SENSIBILITY. 291 Benevolence, which seldom stays to choose, Lest pausing Prudence teach her to refuse, Friendship which once determin'd, never swerves, Weighs ere it trusts ; but weighs not ere it serves, And soft-eyed Pity ; and Forgiveness bland, And melting Charity with open hand, And artless Love believing and believ'd; ApA generous Confidence which ne'er deceived; And Mercy stretching out ere want can speak, To wipe the tear from pale Affliction's cheek. These ye have never known! then take your part Of sordid joy, which never touched the heart ! Hannah More. Good-nature does not confine itself to our own species. It extends to the brute creation who are equally subject to pain with ourselves. To torment, therefore, any animal, because it is in our power, is such an act of cruelty, as I should be sorry to see young persons commit. You should not only discourage the least incli- nation in yourselves, of inflicting any barbarity on brutes, but you should always express your detestation of it in others. When it may be ne- cessary to destroy them, either for subsistence or because they are noxious, it should be done with all possible tenderness, and in a manner 292 SENSIBILITY. by which the least pain can be given. But to prolong the pangs of death, in order to gratify a pampered appetite, or a depraved humor, de- notes a savage or unfeeling disposition. The love which parents have for their offspring, is extended through all animal life* " To rob" therefore, " the poor bird of its young" is a spe- cies of wanton barbarity. The inferior creatures are subject to our su- perior power or sagacity. But the divine crea- tor, who "is good to all, and whose tender mer- cies are over all his works," did not give us do- minion over the beasts of the field, that we should exercise it with ferocity. Their useful- ness to us demands in return pur care and pro- tection. Yet how often do we see them treated in so barbarous a manner, as if they were void of all sensation! But, says Shakespeare, the poor Beetle which we tread upon, In corporal sufferance, feels a pang as great As when a giant dies. The public games of the Romans redounded but little to their credit as a civilized nation. At them, wild beasts were frequently exhibited lighting with one another, or with men, trained to exercises of this kind. But though in our own country we are strangers to this sort of di- SENSIBILITY. 293 versions, yet some remains of a similar inclina- tion are still to be seen among us. The cruel sports, which were formerly so common, are now, in a great measure, suppressed, by the humane interposition of the magistrate. Yet animals are frequently tortured in our streets for the amusement of the populace. And there are some places of genteel resort not altogether free from this reproach; where brute creatures are introduced in a variety of attitudes, for the en- tertainment of the spectator. This must cer- tainly be considered as a species of cruelty ; be- cause they could not have been prepared for these exhibitions, without a previous severe dis- cipline. You should, therefore, avoid every spectacle of this kind ; because of its tendency to render you insensible to the feelings of others. You know by experience that pain is an un- pleasing sensation. You should, therefore, com- miserate, and if possible, alleviate the pangs of animals. To be diverted with them, discovers a temper prone to cruelty, from which all your sports should be totally exempt. To torture flies, birds, or other diminutive creatures which are too often the objects of juvenile pastime, is both barbarous and cowardly. It is barbarous, because it is wantonly inflicting an evil upon 294 sensibility. beings whose bare existence is an enjoyment; it is cowardly, because they are not able to de- fend themselves from your assaults. " A good man" says Solomon, " regardeih the life of his beast" From the same benevolent principle, Moses directed the Jews " not to muzzle the ox, when he treadeth upon the corn ;" as if he had said, "Permit, the poor animal to taste of the grain, while he is laboring to seperate it from the chaff for your use. >? Burton's Lectures. To conclude in the words of the author of the Polite Lady : — " Cherish and cultivate benevo- lence or an universal love and good-will to all your fellow-creatures without exception. For however distinguished by country, climate, lan- guage or complexion ; by difference of religion or politics ; by wealth or poverty, or by any other circumstances, we are all the children of the same parent ; we are all the members of the same family, and therefore, should treat one another with the tender affection of brothers and sisters. The black African, the tawney Ameri- can, and the white European, are equally enti- tled to our good wishes and friendly assistance. It is no consequence where they were born, what language they speak, or what religion they pro- SENSIBILITY. 295 fess ; whether they are high or low, rich or poor ; it is enough that they are human creatures. Torrey's Mental Museum. It is, I believe, agreed by all the medical pro- fession, that the flesh of well-grown animals is easier of digestion than the flesh of young ones ; and as it affords a more generous nourishment, a smaller quantity of the former, will answer the purposes of a larger quantity of the latter. It will then be proper for the tutor to take special care that the flesh of [very] young animals be banished from the table of his pupils. Their constitution will receive advantage from it, and the taste they will thus acquire be more agree- able to the principles of benevolence, in forbear- ing to destroy life almost in the first moments of its existence. Let it be the care of tutors to make their children feel the utility of benevolence, by be- ing themselves the objects of it. Let no capri- cious partialities, no ill-founded preference grow- ing from personal charms or accomplishments, from the gifts of genius, set them an example of a departure from the strict principles of equity, and give them reason to complain both of the injustice of nature and of man. They ought not to be suffered to ridicule 296 SENSIBILITY. others unreproved. Should they once take a pleasure in the pain they give the human mind, benevolence will never be the leading feature of their character. Certainly every tutor not drawn from the dregs of the people, would prevent his pupil from partaking of Domitian's favorite amusement, and would rescue a miserable in- sect, or other animal, from the tortures inflicted by a wanton fanc} r . But would he not suffer him to extend evil in other modes? Would he prevent him from robbing birds of their young? Woulpl he shut out all habits of cruelty, by keep- ing him from the chase and other sports of the field, or from the hardened barbarity of putting worms on a hook as baits to catch fish ? Would he set him the example both of a negative and an active goodness, in a total forbearance of every unnecessary injury, and in the seizing all opportunities to do acts of kindnesss to every feeling being. Mrs. Macaulay Graham. The whole sum of pleasure is much increased by mutual sympathy. This happy moral truth, upon which so many of our virtues depend, should be impressed upon the mind ; it should be clearly demonstrated to the reason ; it should not be repeated as an a priori, sentimental as- sertion. Even the acquisition of talents and SYMPATHY AND SENSIBILITY. 297 knowledge ought, however, to be but a secon- dary consideration, subordinate to the general happiness of our pupils. If we could have su- perior knowledge, upon condition that we should have a malevolent disposition, and an irritable temper, should we, setting every other moral consideration aside, be willing to make the pur- chase at such a price ? The humanity of children cannot, perhaps, properly be said to be exercised upon animals; they are frequently extremely fond of animals, but they are not always equable in their fond- ness; they sometimes treat their favorites with that caprice which favorites are doomed to ex- perience ; this caprice degenerates into cruelty, if it is resented by the sufferer. We must not depend merely upon the natural feelings of com- passion, as preservatives against cruelty ; the instinctive feelings of compassion, are strong among uneducated people ; yet these do not re- strain them from acts of cruelty. They take delight, it has been often observed, in all tragi- cal, sanguinary spectacles, because these excite emotion, and relieve them from the listless state in which their days usually pass. It is the same with all persons, in all ranks of life, whose minds are uncultivated. Until young people have fix- 298 SYMPATHY AND SENSIBILITY* ed habits of benevolence, and a taste for occu* pation, perhaps it is not prudent to trust them with the care or protection of animals. Even when they are enthusiastically fond of them, they cannot, by their utmost ingenuity, make the ani- mals so happy in a state of captivity, as they would be in a state of liberty. They are apt to insist upon doing animals good against their will, and they are often unjust in the defence of their favorites. Children should not be taught to confine their benevolence to those animals which are thought beautiful; the fear and disgust which we ex- press at the sight of certain unfortunate animals, whom we are pleased to call ugly and shocking, are observed by children, and these associations lead to cruelty. If we do not prejudice our pu- pils by foolish exclamations ; if they do not, from sympathy, catch our absurd antipathies, their benevolence towards the animal world, will ■ not be illiberally confined to favorite lap-dogs and singing birds. From association, most peo- ple think that frogs are ugly animals. L , a boy between five and six years old, once beg- ged his mother to come out to look at a beauti- ful animal which he had just found ; she was SYMPATHY AND SENSIBILITY* 29$ rather surprised to find that this beautiful crea- ture was a frog. If children never see others torment animals* they will not think that cruelty can be an amuse- ment; but they may be provoked to revenge the pain which is inflicted upon them ; and there- fore we should take care not to put children in situations where they are liable to be hurt or terrified by animals. Could we possibly expect, that Gulliver should love the Brobdignagian wasp that buzzed round his cake, and prevent- ed him from eating his breakfast ? Could we expect that Gulliver should be ever reconciled to the rat against whom he was obliged to draw his sword % Many animals are, to children, what the wasp and the rat were .to Gulliver. Put bodily fear out of the case, it required all Uncle Toby's benevolence to bear the buzzing of a gnat while he was eating his dinner. Child- ren, even when they have no cause to be afraid of animals, are sometimes in situations to be provoked by them ; and the nice casuist will find it difficult to do strict justice upon the offended and the offenders. Children should be protected against animals, which we do not wish that they should hate; if cats scratch them, and dogs bite them, and mice 300 SYMPATHY AND SEKSIEILITY. devour the fruits of their industry, children must consider these animals as enemies ; they cannot love them, and they may learn the habit of re- venge, from being exposed to their insults and depredation. Pythagoras himself would have insisted upon the exclusive right to the vegeta- bles on which he was to subsist, especially if he had raised them by his own care and industry. Buffon, notwithstanding all his benevolent phi- losophy, can scarcely speak with patience of his enemies the field mice ; who, when he was try" ing experiments upon the culture of forest trees, tormented him perpetually by their insatiable love of acorns. " / was terrified," says he, " at the discovery of half a bushel, and often a whole bushel, of acorns in each of the holes inhabited by these little animals ; they had collected these acorns for their winter provisions." The phi- losopher gave orders immediately for the erec- tion of a great number of traps, and snares bait- ed with broiled nuts; in less than three weeks nearly three hundred field mice were killed or taken prisoners. Mankind are obliged to carry on a defensive war with the animal world. " Eat to be eaten,' 7 says Dr. Darwin, is the great law of nature. Children should not con- quer the natural repugnance of the sight of the SYMPATHY AND SENSIBILITY. 301 struggles of pain, and the convulsions of death ; their aversion of being the cause of pain should be preserved, both by principle and habit. ' Those who have not been habituated to the bloody form of cruelty, can never fix their eyes upon her without shuddering; even those to whom she may have, in some instances, been early familiarized, recoil from her appearance in any shape to which they nave not been ac- customed. All the simplicity of youth, is gone the moment children perceive that they are ex- tolled for the expression of fine feelings, and fine sentiments. Gratitude, esteem and affec- tion, do not depend upon the table of consan- guinity ; they are involuntary feelings, which can- not be raised at pleasure by the voice of autho- rity ; they will not obey the dictates of interest; they secretly despise the anathemas of senti* ment. Esteem and affection, are the necessary consequences of a certain course of conduct, combined with certain external circumstances, which are more or less, in the power of every individual. To arrange these circumstances prudently, and to pursue a proper course of con- duct steadily, something more, is necessary than the transitory impulse of sensibility, or of en- thusiasm* Maria Edgeworth. 302 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. All men having the same nature, have the same natural rights; their rights being equal, they are naturally in a state of liberty. This absolute social state is a subject of the greatest importance and of unlimited extent : for what can more become the dignity of human nature, than that men, states and nations spread over the face of the earth, should consider them- selves and one another, as the children of the same gracious father ; being not only the work of his hand, but also the objects of his benign love and continual care ! How far will this sub- ject extend, if it be considered, that even brutes and other things have an absolute social claim upon the human race ? Man differs from other animals principally in this, that his soul is ra- tional ; but according to his animal nature he has numberless determinations in common with the brutes. In all the acts of impiety, impropriety, inde- cency, injustice and oppression, man abuses free agency, sins against the dignity of his nature, and degrades himself far below the order of beasts. Behold the excellence and necessity of MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 303 a most carefnl performance of the duties of hu- manity, with respect to God and to ourselves Of the same nature are our duties with respect to the brute creation, and even to things of an inanimate nature; he who should think that we might conduct the management and use of them in quite an arbitrary and capricious manner, would give us but indifferent proofs of his un- derstanding and heart; both reason and revela- tion point to the wise and benign design for which they are given : by abusing them, we ren- dor ourselves ungrateful to God, and act in a manner unbecoming the rationality of bur na- ture. Though the dumb creature cannot set up a claim of perfect right; though things inani- mate have no sense of pain or satisfaction ; and though neither of them can apply force to ty- ranny and abuse, still there are duties on our part — duties of humanity ; we ought to conduct ourselves in that respect, as indeed in ail other occurrences of life, conformable to the will of God. Show me a man who is cruel and inhu- mane to brutes, who wantonly destroys or abu- ses other things ; and a thousand to one but you point out a person who cares little for God and his own conscience. Would it not be, as it were, a new heaven and 304 pity. a new earth, if the practice of the duties of hu- manity should become co-extensive with the human race, compassing all that is or can be an object of human thought — all men united in vir- tuous sentiment and in mutual love, conspiring to glorify their Maker, zealous to befriend one another, and to be benefactors to brutes; all of one accord endeavoring to make the wisest and best use of the gifts of Providence ; and all cau- ses of strife, animosity, hatred, envy, and litiga- tion done away among the children of men! Where Liberty yet upholds her standard, there Humanity should shine in an amiable display of social happiness ! • Gros. PITY. Hail, lovely power whose bosom heaves a sigh, When fancy paints a scene of deep distress; Whose tears spontaneous crystallize the eye, When rigid fate denies the power to bless. • Not all the sweets Arabia's gales convey From flow'ry mead can with that sigh compare; Not dew drops, glitt'ring in the morning ray, Seem near so beauteous as that falling tear. Devoid of fear, the fawns around thee play; Emblem of peace, the dove before thee flies, pity. 305 No blood-stained traces mark thy blameless way, Beneath thy feet no helpless insect dies* Come, lovely nymph ! and range the mead with me, To spring the partridge from the guileful foe, From secret snares the struggling bird to free, And stop the hand upraised to give the blow. And when the air with heat meridian glows, And nature droops beneath the conq'ring gleam. Let us, slow w T and'ring where the current flows, Save sinking flies that float along the stream. Or, turn to nobler, greater tasks thy care, To me thy sympathetic gifts impart: Teach me in friendship's griefs to bear a share; And justly boast the generous feeling heart. Teach me to soothe the helpless orphan's grief; With timely aid the widow's woes assuage; To mis'ry's moving cries to yield relief; And be the sure resource of drooping age. So when the verdant springs of youth shall fade, And sinking nature own the dread decay, Some soul congenial then may lend its aid, And gild the close of life's eventful day. Murray's Reader, 20 HAPPINESS OF ANIMALS. Happiness of Animals. — It is impossible to view the cheerfulness of animals and birds with- out pleasure : the latter especially appear to enjoy themselves during the fine weather, in spring and summer, with a degree of hilarity which might be almost envied, It is astonishing how much man might do to lessen the misery of those creatures, which are either given him for food or use, or for adding to his pleasures, if he were so disposed. Instead of which he often exercises a degree of wanton tyranny and cru- elty over them, which cannot be too much de- precated, and for which no doubt he will be held accountable. Animals are so capable of show- ing gratitude and affection to those who have been kind to them, that I never see them sub- jected to ill treatment without feeling the utmost abhorrence of those who are inflicting it. I know many persons who, like myself, take a pleasure in seeing all animals about them ap- pear happy. Cows will show their pleasure at seeing those who have been kind to them, by moving their ears gently, and putting out their wet noses. My old horse rests his head on the gate with great complacency, when he sees me coming, expecting to receive an apple or a piece of bread. I should even be sorry to see my TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, 307 poultry and pigs go out of my way with any symtoms of fear. Jessie's Gleanings* TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, The merciful temper will show and exert itself not only towards those of our acquaintance, but to the whole human species ; and not only to the whole human species, but also to the animal cre- ation. It is a degree of inhumanity to take a pleasure in giving any thing pain, and more in putting useful animals to extreme torture for our own sport. This is not that dominion which God originally gave to man over the beasts of the field. It is, therefore, an usurped authority, which man has no right to exercise over brute creatures, which were made for his service, con* venience, support, and ease, but not for the gra- tification of unlawful passions or cruel dispo- sitions. Benevolence manifests itself by being pleased with the share of good every creature enjoys ; in a disposition to increase it; in feeling an un- easiness in their sufferings ; and in the abho- rence of cruelty under every disguise or pretext. Buck's Theological Dictionary. Man has duties towards those creatures which with himself enjoy existence. Neither the phy* TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. sical nor the purely animal nature knows aught of duty ; but to these, men unites a third, which causes him to view his actions in relation to mo- rality. An essential faculty of the moral man is Benevolence, and this forbids him to torment sentient beings for his pleasure. All cruelty to animals is therefore interdicted by Natural Mo- rality. Man's benevolonce ought to restrain him from the commission of every act of cruelty, either against the lower animals or his fellow men. Man has no title to torment animals in any way whatever ; his moral part forbids all cruel amusements, and all indulgences at the expense of suffering to any living and sentient being. Spurzheim, Domestic Jinimah. — Keep up such a sort of social and friendly intercourse with the tenants of your stables, barn yards, and even your pig sty, that they may be as tame as kittens, and prick up their ears and wag their tails with joy and gratitude whenever you approach them. Animals will not thrive even on custard and apple-pye, if they must eat their allowance with fear and trembling, expecting every moment to be all butannihilated by their cross keeper; who, we are sorry to say, is sometimes more of a brute than any quadruped under his care. Be- TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. 309 sides if any of your stock should be sick or lame, and need doctoring, you can better handle, and give them their prescriptions, if they are accus- tomed to kind and familiar treatment, than if harshness and bad usage had rendered them as wild as partridges and cross as catamounts, •TV. E. Farmer. It seems to be the intention of providence that the lower order of animals should be subservient to the comfort, convenience and sustenance of man. But his right of dominion extends no further ; and if this right be exercised with mild- ness, humanity, and justice, the subjects of his power will be no less benefited than himself; for various species of living creatures are annually multiplied by human art, improved in their per- ceptive powers by human culture, and plenti- fully fed by human industry. The relation, therefore, is reciprocal between such animals and man; and he may supply his own wants by the use of their labor, the produce of their bodies, and even the sacrifice of their lives; whilst he co-operates with all-gracious Heaven in promoting happiness, the great end of existence. But though it be true that partial evil, with respect to the different orders or sensitive beings may be universal good, and that it is a wise and 310 '£Ill&4kTI*El!fT OF* AUIMALS, beneficial institution of nature, to make destruc- tion itself, with certain limitations, the cause of an increase of life and enjoyment; yet a gene- rous person will extend his compassionate re- gard to every individual, that suffers for his sake, and whilst he sighs "Even for the kid or lamb, that pours its life Beneath the bloody knife," he will naturally be solicitous to mitigate pain, both in duration and degree, by the gentlest mode of inflicting it. — Dr. PercivaVs Moral and Literary Illustrations. Cows — should be treated with great tender- ness, and soothed by mild usage, especially when young and ticklish, or when the udders are tender, in which case they ought to be fomented with warm water before milking, and touched with gentleness; otherwise the cows will be in danger of contracting bad habits, becoming stub- born and unruly, and retaining their milk ever after. A cow never gives down her milk plea- santly to the person she dreads or dislikes. Paper, July 23, 1829. Humane Naturalist. — Pierre Lyon net, the very eminent and learned naturalist of the Dutch Netherlands* had obtained such a mastery over the katin, Greek, Hebrew* French, Italian, TRE^qPWEST OF ASUMA^S. 31> Spanish, German and English languages, as to know them almost as well as his own- His observations are so delicate, that they appeared at first incredible ; and he was obliged in order to secure the confidence of the public, to admit several persons of known ability, such as Albinus and Allamand, to be the witnesses of his experiments. Penny Magazine. Lyonnet, in his anatomical treatise on the willow caterpillar, makes known to us all the parts of this little animal, more in detail and with more exactness, it may almost be said, than we know those of the human frame itself. The number of muscles alone which he described and delineated, is four thousand and forty-one ; that of the branches of the nerves and ramifications of the wind pipe, is infinitely more considerable ! A circumstance which does honor to the feelings of Lyonnet, no less than to his dexterity, is the care with which he calls atten- tion to the fact, that he only required to sacri- fice in pursuing his enquiries, a very small num- ber of insects ; and to prevent them from suffer- ing, he suffocated them in spirits of wine before he laid them open- Cuvier. 312 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. The Lady-Bird. O! Lady-Bird, Lady-Bird, why dost thou roam So far from thy comrades, so distant from home? Why dost thou, who can revel all day in the air, Who the sweets of the grove and the garden can share, In the fold of a leaf, who can form thee a bower, And a palace enjoy in the tube of a flower; Ah, why, simple Lady -Bird, why dost thou venture The dwellings of man so familiar to enter? Too soon you may find that your trust is misplaced, When by some cruel child you are wantonly chased, And your bright scarlet coat, so bespotted with black, Maybe torn by his barbarous hands from your back; And your smooth jetty corslet be pierced with a pin, That the urchin may see you in agonies spin; For his bosom is shut against Pity's appeals, He has never been taught that a Lady-Bird feels, Ah! then you'll regret you were tempted to rove From the tall climbing hop, or the hazel's thick grove, And will fondly remember each arbor and tree, Where lately you wandered contented and free; Then fly, simple Lady-Bird, fly away home, No more from your nest and your children to roam. Charlotte Smith. TREATMENT OP ANIMALS, 313 Alexander Wilson. — His attention was first turned to natural history in general, as appears from a letter to a friend, in which he describes the state of his own apartment crowded with opossums, squirrels, snakes, lizards, and birds, in such numbers that they give it the appear- ance of Noah's ark, though Noah had a wife in it, and was in that respect more favored than he. While others were busy in getting money, his heart was bent on gaining a familiarity with the works of nature. Though specimens did not come of their own accord to his ark as to that of the patriarch, he found that small donations, ju- diciously applied, had sufficient power to attract them, and he says, in proof of it, that one boy, knowing his taste, had brought him a whole bas- ket full of crows. One little incident is so beau- tifully illustrative of his character, that it must be given in his own words. Doubtless there are readers who would laugh at such feelings ; but if they will reflect, they will see, that it is no subject of rejoicing, that they have not been cre- ated with minds and hearts, capable of sympa- thizing with such a man as Wilson. Sparks* Biography. " One of my boys caught a mouse in school a few days ago, and directly marched up to me 314 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. with his prisoner. I set about drawing it that same evening, and, all the while, the pantings of its little heart showed, that it was in the most extreme agonies of fear. I had intended to kill it in order to fix it in the claws of a stuffed owl ; but happening to spill a few drops of water where it was tied, it lapped it up with such eagerness, and looked up in my face with such an expres- sion of supplicating terror, as perfectly overcame me. I immediately untied it and restored it to life and liberty. The agonies of a prisoner at the stake, while the fire and instruments of tor- ture are preparing, could not be more severe than the sufferings of the poor mouse ; and, in- significant as the object was, I felt at that mo- ment the sweet sensation that mercy leaves on the mind, when she triumphs over cruelty." •#. Wilson. The Dormouse Just Taken. Sleep on, sleep on, poor captive mouse, Oh sleep! unconscious of the fate That ruthless spoiled thy cosey house* And tore thee from thy mate. What barbarous hand could thus molest A little innocent like thee, TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. 3K> And drag thee from thy mossy nest To sad captivity? Ah ! when suspended life again Thy torpid senses shall recal, Poor guiltless prisoner! what pain Thy bosom shall appal. When starting up in wild affright Thy bright round eyes shall vainly seek Thy tiny spouse with breast so white, Thy whiskered brethren sleek. Thy snug warm nest with feathers lined, Thy winter store of roots and corn, Nor nuts nor beech mast shalt thou find, The toil of many a morn. Thy soft white feet around thy cage Will cling, while thou in hopeless pain Wilt waste thy little life in rage To find thy struggles vain. Yet since thou'rt fallen in gentle hands, Oh captive mouse allay thy grief, For light shall be thy silken bands, And time afford relief. Warm is the lodging, soft the bed Thy little mistress will prepare, 316 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. By her kind hands thou shalt be fed, And dainties be thy fare. But neither men nor mice forget Their native home, where'er they be, And fondly thou wilt still regret Thy wild woods, loves, and liberty. The Port Folio. Birds. — The farmer accuses the woodpecker of boring his trees, when he only enlarges with his bill the hole which the grub had made, and, darting in his long arrowy tongue, puts a stop to its mining forever. Many a poor bird, in like manner, after having slain his thousands of insects which were laying waste the orchard and the garden, is sentenced to death as guilty of the very offences which he has been labori- ously preventing. There are few scenes in which justice is so completely reversed, as when we bee some idle young knave permitted to go forth with a fowling piece, to murder creatures of which it is not too much to say, that they have done more good in the world (it is a bold speech, we confess) than ever he will do evil, and applauded for his exploits by his old father, who, in rejoicing ignorance, congratulates him- self on having a son so efficient and useful. TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. 317 We hear complaints annually from all parts of the United States, that some insect or another is destroying the fruit, and proposing to offer a reward to any one who will discover a remedy. Lest we should be anticipated in our design, we would say that we mean to contend for that prize, and to secure the orchards and gardens by protecting the birds, and offering a handsome bounty for the ears of those who shoot them. Kalm tells us that the planters in Virginia suc- ceeded at last, by legislative enactment, in ex- terminating the little crow, and exulted much on the occasion. But it was not long before their triumph was changed to mourning. They found that the acts had been passed for the benefits of insects, not their own ; and they would gladly have offered a larger bounty to bring back the persecuted birds. We shall not plead for the crow, who is fully able to take care of himself; but we must file a protest against the practice of destroying the birds. of the garden; for, besides depriving us of the beauty of their appearance and the music of their song,it lets in a flood of insects, whose numbers the birds were commis- sioned to keep down ; and when we find this evil, growing year by year, as almost assuredly 318 *AEATSlEirT OF ANIMALS. it will, there will be little consolation in reflect- ing that we have brought it upon ourselves. North American Review. Sad the bird that sings alone, Flies to wilds, unseen to languish, Pours, unheard, the ceaseless moan, And wastes on desert air its anguish! Sad, O hapless bird! thy fate — The plunder d nest — the lonely sorrow! — The lost — the lov'd — harmonious mate! — The wailing-night- — the cheerless morrow ! Edmond O' Ryan, translated by Charlotte Brooke. Dancing Animals. — Geese, turkeys, cocks, &c. are taught to dance by the following cruel method : — The wings of the birds are bound close to their sides, and then they are placed up- on the arena of a flag stone, or plate of iron, be- neath which is a fire, and the sides of which are barrieadoed sufficiently high to prevent escape While one man plays a lively tune on the or- gan, or some other instrument, another blows the fire; and as the heat increases, the poor creatures lift their feet quicker, until the vaults of their contortions, and the rapidity of their motions may be supposed to represent a dance. The system is persevered in until the birds, TREATMENT OF FISHES. 319 when placed npon the common earth, will dance in a similar manner at the sound of music. Bears, dogs, monkeys, &c. are taught to dance in a similar "manner. The more savage bears, in the first place, are muzzled, and an iron ring being passed through the nose, are subjected to very severe discipline, in order to produce that docility which we see them exemplify in the streets. They are then placed, by the contri- vance already mentioned, over a slow fire ; and when, at length, at the sound of the organ, he will assume an erect posture and walk upon his hind legs, he is then deemed fit for exhibi- tion ! TREATMENT OF FISHES. And angling loo, that solitary vice, Whatever Isaac Walton sings or says : The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it. It would have taught him humanity at least. This sentimental savage, whom it is a mode to quote (amongst the novelists) to show their sym- pathy for innocent sports and old songs, teaches how to sew up frogs, and break their legs by way of experiment, in addition to the art of ang- ling! the cruelest, the coldest, and the stupidest 320 TREATMENT OP FISHES. of pretended sports. They may talk about the beauties of nature, but the angler merely thinks of his dish offish ; he has no leisure to take his eyes from off the streams, and a single bite is worth to him all the scenery around. Besides, some fish bite best on a rainy day. The whale, the shark, and the tunny fishery have somewhat of noble and perilous in them ; even net fishing, trawling, &c. are more humane and useful — but angling! No angler can be a good man. " One of the best men I ever knew ; — as hu- mane, delicate-minded, generous, and excellent a creatnre as any in the world, was an angler : true, he angled with painted flies, and would have been incapable of the extravagances of I. Walton." The above addition was made by a friend in reading over the manuscript. " Audi alteram partem,' 5 [Hear each side.] I leave it to coun- terbalance my own observation. Byron. In Loch Alva, I had iairly hooked a very large pike; we were constrained to follow the monster nearly across this great lake. My tackle was uncommonly strong, but he frequently flew out of the water to such a height that I dreaded los- ing such an extraordinary fish. After an hour and a quarter's play, however, we landed him, TREATMENT OF FISHES. 32l a perfect monster in size. He was stabbed by my directions, in the spinal marrow, with a large knife, which appeared to be the most humane manner of killing him. Col. Thornton's Sporting Tour. Mr. Barhydt's is a short drive from Ballston Spa. Just below the house on the north side, amid the grove of pines, is his famous trout spring. Cool clear water trickling from the bank, falls into a wooden trough, where the trout are kept until wanted for the guest, and where by sundry contrivances, the residue of their short lives are made as comfortable as pos- sible. Albany Gazette. Shell Fish.— The Snow Pond in the riortJi of New Jersey, is so called from its extreme white- ness. This appearance I found, was caused by innumerable small white shells, which formed a border to the pond, three miles in circumfer- ence. The shells extended in many parts a hundred yards from the shore, and a cove which extended a mile was completely filled with them # Towards the centre of the pond the bank of shells declined suddenly to an unknown depth ; many attempts have been made to fathom it, but without success. The shells are extremely minute, none of them more than three lines in 21 322 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. diameter, and many one-third of that size. They appear like grains of sand. The quantity amounts to many thousand tons. Recent shell fish of the same kind are no doubt living in the centre of the pond, but have not hitherto been noticed on the surface. No use is made of this immense deposit of shells, although a very pure carbonate of lime. A small dam thrown across one end of the pond was said to have been made by the beavers. There is more happiness in the world than people in general imagine! The in- habitants of these beautiful shells have enjoyed their mountain lake from time immemorial — un- disturbed by the ambition of man, they have lived, and enjoyed tranquility!" Finch's Tour. Bull Baiting. — At the Spanish bull fights the magistrate presides ; and after the horsemen and piccadores have fought the bull, the matadore steps forward and bows to him for permission to kill the animal. If the bull has done his duty by killing two or three horses, or a man, which last is rare, the people interfere with shouts, the ladies wave their handkerchiefs, and the animal is saved. The wounds and the death of the horses are accompanied with the loudest accla- BULL BAITING. 323 mations, and many gestures of delight, especially from the female portion of the audience, includ- ing those of the gentlest blood. Every thing de- pends on habit. The author of Childe Harold, the writer of this note, and one or two other En- glishmen, who have certainly in other days borne the sight of a pitched battle, were, in the summer of 1809, in the governor's box at the great am* phitheatre of Santa Maria, opposite to Cadiz. The death of one or two horses completely sa- tisfied their curiosity. A gentleman present, observing them shudder and look pale, noticed that unusual reception of so delightful a sport to some young ladies, who stared and smiled, and continued their applause as another horse fell bleeding to the ground. One bull killed three horses off his own horns. He was saved by acclamations which were redoubled when it was known he belonged to a priest. An Englishman who can be much pleased with seeing two men beat themselves to pieces, can- not bear to look at a horse galloping round an arena with his bowels trailing on the ground, and turns from the spectacle and the spectators with horror and disgust. Note to Childe Harold, 324 BULL BAITING. What creature's that, so fierce and bold* That springs and scorns to lose his hold? His teeth, like saw hooks^ meet! The bleeding victim roars aloud, While savage yells convulse the crowd, Who shout on shout repeat. It is the bull-dog, surly, brave, Like bipeds on the swelling wave, Amidst the battle's flood. It is the bull-dog, dauntless hound* That pins the mourner to the ground, His nostrils dropping blood. The stake-abound captive snorts and groans, While pain and torture rack his bones, Gored both without and in; One desperate act of strength he tries, And high in air the bull-dog flies^- 5 Yet toss'd to fight again* \ He falls— and scarcely feels the earth j Ere innate courage shows its worthy His eye -balls flashing fire Again he dares his lusty foe — Again aloft is doom'd to go — Falls— ^-struggles — and expires. TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. 325 the dog; Dogs are honest creatures, And ne'er betray their masters, never fawn On any that they love not. Otway, The dog is remarkable for its natural docility, fidelity, and affection for its master ; which qual- ities mankind are careful to improve for their own advantage. These useful creatures guard our houses, gardens, and cattle with spirit and vigi- lance. By their help we take beasts and birds, and pursue game over land and through water. In some northern countries they are made to draw sleds and carry burdens. In several parts of China, and by the West Indian negroes their flesh is eaten as excellent food ; it is said to re- semble mutton in taste. They were also used as food by the Greeks and Romans. Encyclopedia* The keeping of Dogs in health depends much on their diet and lodging, frequently cleaning their kennels and giving them fresh straw to lie on, is very necessary; in summer time deal shavings or sand instead of straw will check the fleas. If you brush or comb your dog once or twice a week he will thrive much better A iog TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, is of a very hot nature, he should, therefore, never be without clean water by him, that he may drink when he is thirsty ; the greatest re- lief to them in summer is twitch grass, or dog grass ; when this it planted convenient for them, they feed freely on it to be cured of sickness ; for want of this, or for cleanliness in lodging, food, drink, &c. he becomes mangy. One cure for this is giving finely powdered brimstone, mixed with butter or milk, and rubbiug them daily for a week with some of the brimstone mixed with pork-lard and a little oil of turpen- tine. If your dog is bruised, bathe the wounded part with salt and cold vinegar. Sportsman's Dictionary. Cruelty Punished. — At Abo, in Finland, a dog, that had been run over by a carriage, crawled to the door of a tanner in that town ; the man's son, a lad of fifteen year's of age, first stoned and then poured a vessel of boiling hot water upon the miserable animal. This act of diabolical cruelty was witnessed by one of the magistrates, who informed his brethren of the fact. They unanimously agreed in condemning the boy to punishment. He was imprisoned till the following market day ; then in the presence of the people, he was conducted to the place of THE DOG. 327 execution by an officer of justice, who read to him this sentence : — " Inhuman young man • because you did not assist the animal that im- plored your aid by its cries, and who derives his being from the same God who gave you life ; because you added to the tortures of the agoniz- ing beast, and murdered it, the council of this city have sentenced you to wear on your back the name you deserve, and to receive fifty stipes." He then hung a black board around his neck with this inscription, " A savage and inhuman young man!' 7 and after inflicting upon him twenty-Jive stripes, he proceeded, "Inhu- man young man ! you have now felt a very small degree of pain with which you tortured a help- less animal in his hour of death. As you wish for mercy from that God who created all that live, learn humanity for the future." He then executed the remainder of the sentence» J. Goldsmith's Manners and Customs. Homer's account of Ulysses' dog Argus is the most pathetic imaginable, all the circumstances considered, and an excellent proof of the old bard's good nature. Ulysses had left him at Ithaca when he embarked for Troy, and found him at his return after twenty years. 328 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. When wise Ulysses, from his native coast X*ong kept by wars, and long by tempests tost* Arriv'd at last, poor, old, disguis'd, alone, To all his friends, and ev'n his queen unknown; Chang' d as he was, with age, and toils, and cares, Furrow' d his rev'rend face, and white his hairs, In his own palace forc'd to ask his breads Scorn' d by those slaves his former bounty fed, Forgot of all his own domestic crew ; The faithful dog alone his rightful master knew \ Unfed, unhous'd, neglected, on the clay, Like an old servant now cashier'd, he lay; Touch'd with resentment of ungrateful man, And longing to behold his ancient Lord again. Him when he saw-^-he rose, and crawl' d to meet, ('Twas all he could,) and fawn'd, andkiss'd his feet, Seiz'd with dumb joy-— -then falling by his side, Own'd his returning Lord, look'd up, and died. Pope. Ingenious bards have often tried Man's best resemblance to define; I hold (nor startle child of pride) Our likeness is the race canine! ^Gainst this let no one set his face, I go on sure and certain ground- THE DOG. 32S Where can throughout the human race More strict fidelity be found ? The dog, if needful, to his death, Demonstrating with honor is, For his protection yields his breath, And saves that life which cherish' d his. Nor can this any stigma fix At which the nicest ear may start ; But shows, that though they play dogs' tricks ? Men have fidelity at heart. Sly dogs, queer dogs, mankind we name, Then who my thesis shall condemn, For, if their titles be the same, They must ape us, or we ape them. Pug dogs, that amble through the street To fops we aptly may compare; And every female that you meet Can tell you who the puppies are. For sad dogs one can scarcely stir, Of spaniels there's a catalogue ; The dogged cynick is a cur, A tar's the English mastiff dog. With dogs such dashing sportsmen suit As instinct use, but never think j 330 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. And yet the dog is the wiser brute, For he can neither smoke nor drink! Bullies are whelps that growl and snarl, And quarrel loud, but never fight, Mongrels are Envy's sous that snarl, And show their teeth — but cannot bite. The terrier the undertaker hits, The Greek's a fox that skips and cogs, Comical dogs are smarts and wits, And topers are all jolly dogs. Dibdin. Menagerie of Jlnimals. — The situation of the Dublin Zoological Garden, could not have been more beautiful or appropriate. On entering the gardens, the first object to the right is a cage containing a pair of red grouse. These pretty birds seemed completely domesticated, and so familiar as to eat from your hand. Further to the right is ashed or house appropriated to some animals. I was surprised at the very confined space in which so many were crowded. There were in the room a leopard and leopardess, a hyena, several monkeys, a squirrel, an ichneu- mon, a pelican, several mackaws and parrots, a Kestrel hawk, and two fine herons, birds, tor- CONFINEMENT OP ANIMALS. 33] toises, and others— all confined in a room not more than twenty or twenty-five feet long, and ten or twelve feet broad. I trust that this build- ing is quite temporary, and not intended as a fixed residence. The animals cannot be seen to advantage, and must find their confinement to be any thing but pleasant. The committee of the garden must be aware that the space allot- ted to each animal is far from sufficient, either to render its situation at all comfortable, or per- mit of its being examined as it should be. Leaving this shed we pass on to those noble birds — the ostriches : should not the boxes which seemed intended to protect them from the inclemency of the weather, be much larger, for the birds are obliged in entering them to stoop very much, and they could not possibly remain in them except in a bent attitude. In the lawn, chained to some trees, I noticed the moor-buzzard, common buzzard, and pere- grine falcon. Why are these poor creatures chained ? The buzzards are altogether preclud- ed from perching, as the branches of the trees to which they are chained, are far above their reach. Why not have a house erected which would contain all these, and more, and which could be done at a trifling expense I It might 332 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. be done by driving stakes into the ground in a circular form, and roofing it in a similar man* ner to the house containing the pheasants, &c. By this they would be protected from the seve* rity of the weather, and would enjoy sufficient liberty to render them comfortable, and yet at the same time be seen to more advantage than they are at present. Turning from these I stood before two of our noblest birds — the golden Eagles; when we see them confined within the precincts of a cage, and reflect on what would have been their [free] situation had they not been brought under the dominion of man, we cannot but wish to render them as comfortable as circumstances will per- mit. Fixed as they are at present, they are, perhaps, more at ease than many of their feh low-prisoners ; but by appropriating large spa- ces to them and to the pair of sea eagles, which might easily be done; they, by enjoying greater freedom of moving from perch to perch would, I am sure, feel their confinement less irksome, I now visited the sea fowl, and here the same want of room struck me, perhaps more forcibly than in the case of the eagles. Might not a rail- ing be put down, which would extend to a con- siderable distance across the pond, and afford THE BEES. 333 them better accommodation for cleaning them* selves, and would tend to preserve them in bet- ter health than they can be, limited as they are at present. J. I). M. of Belfast. Dublin Penny Journal* THE BEES, Ah, see where, robb'd and murder' d in that pit Lies the still heaving hive! at evening snatch'dj Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, And fix'd o'er sulphur: whilej not dreaming ill, The happy people, in their waxen cells, Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes Of temperance, for Winter poor; rejoiced To mark} full flowing round, their copious stores* Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends; And, used to milder scents^ the tender race, By thousands, tumble from their honied domes 3 Convolved, and agonizing in the dust. And was it then for this you roam'd the Spring, Intent from flower to flower? for this you toil'd Ceaseless the burning Summer heats away? For this in Autumn search'd the blooming waste, Nor lost one sunny gleam? for this sad fate? O Man! tyrannic lord! how long, how long Shall prostrate Nature groan beneath your rage, 334 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. Awaiting renovation? when obliged, Must you destroy? of their ambrosial food Can you not borrow; and, in just return Afford them shelter from the wintry winds; Or, as the sharp year pinches, with their own Again regale them on some smiling day? See where the stony bottom of their town Looks desolate and wild; with here and there A helpless number, who the ruin'd state Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death. Thompson. In this country it is usual in seizing the stores of these little animals, to rob them also of their lives. A hole is dug near the hives of those who have been doomed for slaughter, (generally in September,) and a stick fastened to a rag that has been dipped in melted brimstone being placed in the hole and the rag set on fire, the hive is immediately set over it, and the earth instantly thrown up all around so that none can escape. In a quarter of an hour all the bees are seemingly dead, and they soon will be recover- ably so by being buried in the earth, that is, re- turned back into the hole. By this last means they are absolutely killed, for those recover who have been affected only by the fume of the brimstone, and not singed or burnt by the flame. THE BEES. 335 Hence it appears that the fume of the brimstone, might, with some precautions, be used for intox- icating the bees. More humane and judicious methods were practised by the ancients, and a simple method is at this day used in Greece, degenerate as it is. Encyclopedia. Their hives are made of willows and osiers, wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, and plastered with clay or loam both within and without. The tops are covered with broad flat sticks, plastered over with clay and covered with straw to secure them from the weather. Along each of these sticks, the bees fasten their combs, which may be taken out whole. This is done in the middle of the day when the bees are abroad, they being thus disturbed the least, the comb is lifted up from each outside, and suffi- cient left in the middle to maintain the bees in winter ; those bees on the combs are gently swept again into the basket-hive which is cover- ed anew with sticks and plaster. Wheeler. The common practice of killing the bees, in order to obtain the honey, few can witness with- out some little compunction. There is a very simple method of effecting the object without any injury to this most interesting little animal, 336 TREATMENT OP AftlMAtS* which, on the score of interest, as well as hu- manity, claims regard. In the evening, when the bees have retired* take the hive gently from the stand ; spread a table cloth on the ground ; set the hive on it, placing something under it to raise it 3 or 4 inches.; then draw up the corners of the cloth, and fasten them tight around the middle of the hive, leaving it so loose below, that the bees will have sufficient room between it and the hive; then raise the lid of the hive a little and blow in the smoke from a segar ; a few puffs of which, as it is very disagreeable, will drive them down: continue raising the lid gradually, blowing all around, and in a few minutes it will be found that they have gone out of the hive. You may then take off the lid and cut away as much of the honey as you think proper. If the operation be performed the beginning of July, you may take nearly all, as there will be time enough to provide a sufficiency for their support during the winter. As soon as you have taken the honey* put on the lid, loosen the cloth, and spread it out, and in an hour or two the bees will have returned into the hive. It may then be replaced on the stand, and on the following day they will be found at work as usual.— American Farmer. THE BEES. 337 The Rev. Mr. White observes that no true lover of bees ever lighted the fatal match with- out much concern, and that it is evidently more to our advantage, to spare the lives of our bees and be content with part of their stores, than to kill and take possession of the whole. From his fondness for these little animals, he endea- vored, if possible, to save them from fire and brimstone ; feeling content to share their labors for the present, and rejoicing if he could save their lives for another year. The object of his studies and experiments was, to find an easy and cheap mode of doing this for the com- mon people. His bee-boxes are of a square shape, the heigth and breadth ten or twelve inches, made of boards nearly an inch thick and well seasoned that they may not warp or split. In the middle of the bottom edge of the front side is cut a door or aperture three inches wide and nearly half an inch high, which will freely admit the bees, but exclude their enemy the mouse. Near the top of the back part is secure- ly fastened a piece of good glass about five inches long, and three broad ; by means of this you may, when necessary, judge of the situation and quantity of the contents of each box. At all other times the glass must be securely cover- 22 333 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. cd by a thin board shutter. Within are fixed two sticks crossing the box from side to side, and crossing each other, to be a stay for the combs ; the one three inches from the top, and the other from the bottom. Two of these boxes are to be joined together, and the sides of junction may therefore be made thinner. In the bottom of these two sides of communication, a space must be left the whole breadth of the box, and a little more than an inch in height, by which the bees may freely pass from one to the other, and a passage at the top, three inches long, and more than half an inch wide, for ease of returning, &c. To hive a swarm of bees, the two open spaces in the side of communication of one box, are closely covered, and the next morning after the bees are hived in this box, the other box is added and the communication is opened ; but if the swarm is very large, the two boxes may be joined with three staples, the communication be- ing left open, and the bees hived at once into both. The entrance of the bees must be through the first box only; the outward door of the second box must be carefully stopped, and con- tinued so until the time of taking the honey ; as soon as they are hived, cover their box with a THE BEES. 339 linen cloth, or green boughs to protect it from the piercing heat of the sun, which board boxes admit much sooner than straw hives, for if the swarm find their house too hot to hold them, they will be wise enough to leave it. They should also be screened from the winter's sun, which will draw them from their lethargic state, as well as from the summer's, and rain, &c. At the lat- ter end of August, you may examine all the hives by opening the shutters of the glasses of each, and see which colonies are rich enough for contribution. If the first box be filled, and the second partly so, you can with ease obtain the latter. JYou must ascertain how many combs there are, and how well they are stored with honey. The most proper time for taking it is the middle of the day ; you stand behind the frame armed with a pair of gloves. First open the door of the closed hive, then with a thin knife cut through the resin with which the bees have joined the boxes, and thurst a sheet of tin gently between the boxes; the communi- cation being thus stopped, the bees in the box with the queen, probably the first and fullest one, will be a little disturbed ; but in the other box they will be in the greatest distress and confu- sion, and will issue out at the door one or two 340 TREATMENT Otf ANIMALS. at a time, in wild flutter and disorder, but when they spy their fellows they join them at the mouth of the other box ; in an hour or two they will all have removed to the box where the queen is, and you have the pure honey in the other box, without any burnt or dead bees, which, when you burn them, are often mixed with the honey and both waste and damage it. Should any bees attempt to remove the honey from the vacant hive to the other, small trap doors of thin paste-board loosely suspended over the mouth, and opening outwardly only, would permit those within to escape, but would prevent all entrance. Wr. White says that he prefers these collate- ral boxes [joined side to side] to those placed on top of each other, from " compassion for the poor bees, weary and heavy-laden from the fields ; for as these architects lay the foundation of their structure at the top, and build down- ward, the liltle laborer thus has to drag her loads up the sides of the walls, and travel many times backward and forward along the roof before she finds the door into the second story, and here she is again perplexed with a like puzzling lab- yrinth, before she gets into the third. What a w r aste is here of that precious time which our bees value so much, and which they employ so well ! SHEEP. 341 and what an expense of strength and spirits, on which their support and sustenance depend!" Encyclopedia Brittanica. Sheep.-— When sheep are very ill kept* or when they lay on damp or wet ground in the spring or autumn, they are subject to colds, which appear by the discharge of mucus from the nose and eyes, and sometimes by blindness. The cure is warmth, dry litter, and good food. Folding tends to the deterioration of the flock, the loss in wool, and injury to the sheep and lambs exceeding the gain in manure. Cattle, unless they feed near the sea, require salt; they eat it ravenously, and it is thought essential to their health. However good your pastures may be, the sheep will tire of them unless their appe- tites are kept up by salt. In shearing, great care is to be taken not to wound the sheep, par^ ticularly near the udder, where the wound is dangerous; but in case of such accidents, apply to the wound, to heal and protect it from the flies, some tar, with a little grease and fine dust of charcoal over it. Every good farmer would provide some shelter for his ewes in. the winter, and take pare ;o furnish 342 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, the yard with a great quantity of litter, and re- new this after every rain. I generally heap up leaves and lay straw upon them ; this forms a soft bed in the winter, and by its early fermen- tation in the spring, furnishes a rich manure. The Otter sheep have a long body, with legs turned out, and quite short, so that they cannot run or jump, and even walk with some difficulty. The only advantage that can result from this de- formity, is, that they cannot pass over stone walls, and are confined by slight fences. Whether this will counterbalance the sufferings to which they must be liable in a deep snow, the impossibility of driving them to distant pastures or to market, and the facility with which they may be destroyed by dogs, is a matter of calcu- lation with economical farmers. Those, how- ever, who possess a grain of taste, who take a pleasure in the sportive gambols of their lambs, and who delight rather in perfecting than in maiming the works of nature, will seldom be in- duced to propagate, beyond what is absolutely necessary, an infirmity which abridges the short enjoyments of a useful and helpless animal. Robert R. Livingston. THE SQUIRREL. 343 Remorse on killing a Squirrel in a Garden. Rash was the hand, and foul the deed, That gave thee, thus, to death a prey; Oh! I could weep to see thee bleed And pant thy gasping life away. What hadst thou done to merit death, But gather for a future day, Just to prolong thy little breath? And yet I took thy life away. For thou no wealth or fame did'st crave, No costly food, or clothing gay; But only sought thy life to save, And yet I took thy life away. Poor little thing ! how hard it strove To shun the blow, as hid it lay: But all could not my pity move, I took its trembling life away. Oh! how inhospitably vile! It came, a stranger, here to stay; To eat and drink, and live awhile, But I have torn its life away. Too late, I now repent the blow, 'Tis stiff, alas! and cold as clay! Its life to me it did not owe, And yet I took its life away. 344 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, That Power which gave all nature law, Whose summons we must all obey, Gave thee thy vital breath to draw, And yet I took that breath away. Whether thou hast a mate to moan, Or offspring dear, ah! who can say? No harm to me thou e'er has done, And yet I took thy life way. What millions do mankind destroy, Of their own race, for power or pay ! Some would have kept thee for a toy, But I have toyed thy life away. And if for this remorse I feel, If conscience sting, oh ! what must they Endure, who wide destruction deal, And take the life of man away. William Ray. Affection of the Wolf. — M. de Candolle, Lec- turer on Natural History at Geneva, among other instances of the affection of wolves, men- tioned one which occurred in his vicinity. Ma- dame M^r— -, had a tame wolf which seemed to have as much attachment to its mistress as a spaniel. She had occasion to leave home for some weeks : the wolf evinced the greatest dis- tress after her departure, and at first refused to THE ASS. 345 take food. During the whole time she was ab- sent he remained much dejected ; on her return as soon as the animal heard her footsteps, he bounded into the room in an ecstacy of delight ; springing up he placed one paw on each of her shoulders, but next moment he fell backwards and instantly expired. BakeweWs Travels. The Jlss. — The domestic ass is an humble, tranquil and patient animal. He submits with firmness to strokes and chastisement ; is tempe- rate in the quantity and quality of his food ; but will not drink water unless it is pure. As his master will not take the trouble of combing him, he often rolls himself on the turf among thistles, ferns, &c. Without regarding what he is carry- ing he lies clown as often as he can, seeming to reproach his master for neglect and want of at- tention. When very young the ass is a gay, sprightly, nimble and gentle animal; but he soon loses these qualities, probably by the bad usage he meets with. He has a fine eye, excel- lent scent and good ear. The affection of the female for her young is very strong ; Pliny says, that when an experiment was made to test the strength of her maternal affections, she run through the flames to come at her colt. When overloaded he shows his sense of the injustice, 346 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. and hangs his head and sinks his ears, and when much teased and tormented, he opens his mouth and retracts his lips in a disagreable manner, but seldom cries unless pressed by love or hunger. Natural History. I was stopped at the gate by a poor ass, who had just turned in with a couple of large panniers upon his back, to collect eleemosinary turnip tops and cabbage leaves ; and stood du- bious with his two fore-feet on the inside of the threshold, and with his two hinder-feet towards the street, as not knowing very well whether he was to go in or no. Now 'tis an animal (be in what hurry I may) I cannot bear to strike — there is a patient endu- rance of sufferings, wrote so unaffectedly in his looks and carriage, which pleads so mightily for him, that it always disarms me ; and to that de- gree that I do not like to speak unkindly to him : on the contrary, meet him where I will — whether in town or country — in cart or under panniers — whether at liberty or in bondage, I have ever something to say to him on my part; and as one word begets another (if he has as little to do as I,) I generally fall into conversation with him; and surely never is my imagination so busy, as in framing his responses from the etch- THE ASS, 347 ingsof his countenance — and where those carry me not deep enough — in flying from my own heart into his and seeing what is natural for an ass to think — as well as man upon the occasion. Come Honesty! said I — seeing it was im- practible to pass betwixt him and the gate — art thou for coming in or going out? The ass twisted his head round to look up the street. Well, replied I — we'll wait a minute for thy driver. He turned his head thoughtfully about and looked wistfully the opposite way I understand thee perfectly, answered I — if- thou takest a wrong step in this affair, he will cudgel thee to death — Well! a minute is but a minute, and if it saves a fellow-creature a drub- bing, it shall not be set down as ill-spent. He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this discourse went on, and in the little peevish con- tentions of nature betwixt hunger and unsavori- ness, had dropt it out of his mouth half a dozen limes, and picked it up again. — God help thee Jack ! said I — thou hast a bitter breakfast on't — and many a bitter day's labor — and many a bitter blow, I fear, for its wages—- 'tis all bitter- ness to thee whatever life is to others. — And now thy mouth, if one knew the truth of it, is as 348 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. bitter, I dare say, as soot — (for he had cast aside the stem,) and thou hast not a friend perhaps in all the world, that will give you a macaroon. In saying this I pulled out a paper of them, which I had just purchased, and gave him one— and at this moment that I am telling it my heart smites me, that there was more of pleasantry in the conceit, of seeing how an ass would eat a macaroon — than of benevolence in giving him one, which presided in the act. When the ass had eaten his macaroon, I pressed him to come in — the poor beast was * heavy loaded — his legs seemed to tremble un- der him — he hung rather backward, and as I pulled at his halter it broke short in my hand — he looked up pensive in my face — " Don't thrash me with it — but if you will, you may." If I do, said I— I'll be d— . The word was but one half of it pronounced, (so there was no sin in it) — when a person com- ing in, let fall a thundering bastinado upon the poor devil's crupper, which put an end to the ceremony. Sterne, TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, 349 THE HORSE. The horse's useful talents are improved, and his natural qualities perfected by art ; from his birth he is carefully attended, exercised, and fitted for the service of man ; his education com- mences with the loss of his liberty, and is com- pleted by restraint. The servitude of these ani- mals is so universal and perpetual, that we sel- dom see them in their natural state. When employed they are loaded with harness : in the seasons of rest, they are not entirely free from shackles ; and even in the fields and pastures they carry the badges of slavery, and frequently bear the cruel marks of labor and pain. Their mouths disfigured with furrows, occasioned by the bit ; their sides deformed with ulcers or cicatrices, from the spur ; their hoofs perforated with nails, and their attitudes, by the continued pressure of the harness, cramped and constrain- ed; even of those, whose servitude is of the easiest kind, being kept chiefly for show and magnificence, their gilded chains are not so much intended for an ornament to them, as to show the opulence of their master. Ihiffbn. Reflections on my Horse. — This beast of toil and sweat hath administered to my pleasures or 250 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. to my profit for many years past ; and now that he is no longer able to perform my work, shall I dismiss him as a creature not worthy of my future protection? Shall I subject him to the caprice, or abuse, or unexperienced servitude of a new, and, it may be, of a cruel and merce- nary master? If he is not fit for my work, he is not fit for any work, And shall I curse the age of my beast because he hath worn himself out in my service? Or the gain which I have acquired by his labor, shall I corrode it by the price of his blood ? No. If I chop not his hay; if I grind not his corn ; if I assist not the decay and unevenness of his teeth, by conducting him to the longest, mildest, and tenderest grass in my pasture, I will yet testify my approbation of his former service, by putting an instant period to all his pain ; for it is not cruelty, but mercy, to shoot my horse or dog, when his teath are gone, aud the happiness of his life is at an end. Sporting Magazine. The High-mettled Racer. See the course thronged with gazers, the sports are begun, The confusion, but hear: I bet you, Sir! done! done! Ten thousand strange murmurs resound far and near, Lords, hawkers, and jockeys, assail the tired ear, THE HORSE, 351 While with neck like a rainbow, erecting his crest, Pampered, prancing, and pleased, his head touching his breast; Scarcely snuffing the air he's so proud and elate, The high mettled racer first starts for the plate. Grown aged, us'd up, and turned out of the stud Lame, spavined, and wind-galled, but yet with some blood: While knowing postilions his pedigree trace, Tell his dam won this sweepstake, his sire gained that race: And what matches he'd won to, the ostlers count o'er, And they loiter their time at some hedge ale-house door, While the harness sore galls, and the spur his sides goad, The high-mettled racer's a hack on the road. Till at last, having labored, drudged early and late, Bowed down by degrees, he bends on to his fate; Blind, old, lean, and feeble, he tugs round a mill, Or draws sand till the sand of his hour-glass stands still. And now cold and lifeless, exposed to the view, In the very same cart which he yesterday drew; While a pitying crowd his sad relics surrounds, The high-mettled racer is sold for the hounds. Dibdin, 352 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. The Bedouin [Arabs] never allow a horse, at the moment of its birth, to fall upon the ground ; they receive it in their arms, and so cherish it for several hours, occupied in washing and stretching its tender limbs, and carressing it as they would a baby. After this they place it on the ground and watch its feeble steps with par- ticular attention, prognosticating from that time the excellencies or defects of their future com- panion. BurcJchardt. The Sabbath seems to be considered, by too many, as set apart by divine and human autho- rity for the purpose, not of rest, but of its direct opposite, the labor of travelling, thus adding one day more of torment to those generous but wretched animals whose services they hire ; and who being generally strained the other six days of the week, have of all creatures under heaven the best and most equitable claim to suspension of labor on the seventh. Bishop Porteus. Gratitude to my Horse. — I had thrown the reins of my horse on his neck, who had taken advantage of my inattention to pick up a little clover that grew by the way side. Kay, if it be thy will, old companion, says I, e'en take the other bite ; the farmer will be never the poorer for the mouthful thou shalt *HE HORSE, 353 take away : did he know thy good qualites, he would let thee eat thy fill. I will not interrupt thy pleasurable moments; so, prithee, feed on* Full many a year hast thou journied with me through the uneven ways of the world! We have lugged up many a steep hill, and borne the buffet of the tempest together ! I have had the labors of thy youth, and thy age hath a claim on me, which, while I have sixpence in my pocket, I dare not refuse. Thou shalt not, when thy strength is exhausted, be consigned to poverty and toil ! or, as thou passest by my door, lashed on by some unfeeling owner, look at me with the severe eye of reproach. Had that Hand, which fashioned us both, en- dued thy species with the faculty of speech, with what bitterness of heart would they com- plain of the ingratitude of ours. Keate. As the late Duke of Hamilton was returning to town in his phaeton, his progress was imped- ed near the King of Bohemia's head, Turnham green, by a vindictive coachman, who was la- cerating a pair of fine young horses, in harness, and using to them language the most indecorous. "Fellow," said the Duke, " if I knew your master, I would presently give him notice of your cruelty." " If you'll get down," replied 23 354 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. the savage, " I'll serve you in the like manner." The Duke passed the infuriated fellow, and waited his coming at the Horse and Groom turn- pike, where, having arrived, his Grace again reproved him for his conduct; and the other, not knowing with whom he had to cope, once more became still more abusive, when the Duke, giving his coat to his man, bid the coachman defend himself, which he instantly did, and, after a few rounds, was so dreadfully punished as to lie on his back and cry for mercy. " You have it," said the Duke, " though you could show none to your horses, who, though they wanted the tongues to complain, have found a friend in the Duke of Hamilton." The fellow in consequence of the drubbing, took to his bed, and being turned from his master's service, the Duke allowed his wife one guinea a week till his perfect recovery. Sporting Anecdotes. It might have been expected that the superior excellence of this creature, his wonderful useful- ness, the beauty of his form and the nobleness of his nature, would have protected him from wanton cruelty ; and yet there is no animal else that men are in the habit of treating so cruelly. The noxious animals have their lives taken from them at once. Few possess the ferociousness of THE HORSE, 355 disposition that would delight to put to death a fox, or even a wolf by lingering tortures. But the horse experiences this horrible treatment from the hands of man, in a thousand instances. Backed, or driven, by an unfeeling human mon- ster — in the attire, perhaps, of a gentleman ; his sides are goaded with the spur, or his flanks lashed with the whip, till he faints, falls, and expires in dumb agony : and then he is substi- tuted by another, and that by another yet; which, each in his turn, are tortured to death ; and that, not to save human life, but for the sake of conveying with unrivalled speed, a speech, or an article of news, that would suffer no damage though it arrived a few hours later. What would a disciple of Pythagoras say in this case? or what would he say in innumerable other cases of unfeeling barbarity used toward a creature so estimable for his usefulness, his faithfulness, and his courage ? Assuredly he would say, "These christians will have their reward. In the next stage of their existence, they will be compelled to do penance in the bodily form of the animal they have so wan- tonly abused." But, fiction apart, we are fully assured, upon divine authority, that without mer- cifulness of disposition and conduct we are not 356 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. entitled to the expectation of finding mercy ; and that " a merciful man is merciful to his beast." Mark this ! — There is no worse sign, in child- ren, nor any thing more necessary to be nipt in the bud, than a strong propensity to exercise cruelty upon the brute creatures within their power. It was the sport of Domitian's boyhood? to impale flies on the point of a needle ; of his manhood, it was the sport, to inflict every kind of torture upon his feilow beings. The Brief Remarket- by Ezra Sampson, Training and Management of Horses. — Most horses are by nature extremely docile, and, when proper means are used with them, they show themselves very well disposed to obey their masters. The latter, therefore, ought to en- deavor from the commencement, to acquire the confidence of the animal, by kind and gentle treatment, and by avoiding all unnecessary se- verity. Some horses, indeed, are naturally vicious, or obstinate, and must occasionally be coerced by punishment; but the chastisement should be inflicted with judgment and discrimi- nation. Spirit has been sometimes mistaken for vice ; and many horses not naturally vicious, have been rendered so by severity and injudi- cious treatment. A horse may be dressed to the THE HORSE. 357 manege [riding-school] at almost any age, pro- vided he has sufficient strength and symmetry ; some people prefer from five to eight years of age. If trained from his infancy, his education may commence between the age of two and three years, and it will facilitate future operations, if he has been accustomed to be housed during the winter. At this age a halter or cavesson may be put upon the foal, that he may become familiar with it. It is proper too, that the groom every time he cleans the animal, should lift each of his feet alternately and strike the under part of the hoof gently with a piece of wood, or a hammer, after which he will readily submit to be shod when necessary. Before feeding the foal, the groom should put a saddle on its back, and remove it again, but with great caution, and continue this practice from time to time until the animal has become habituated to it. The girth may then be bound over the saddle, but not too tight, and the foal be left to stand and feed. The hand should also be occasionally laid gently on the saddle, in order that the animal may be accustomed to be handled in this manner without feeling any alarm. We cannot too often repeat, that these things, and, indeed, all lessons must be taught by degrees, and by the most gentle means, 358 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. otherwise we run the risk of spoiling the temper of the animal, and of rendering it either timid or vicious. By following the method presented above, the foal will gradually become so docile and obedient, that when fit for riding, he will readily submit to be shod, saddled, and mount- ed : for having been familiarised to these things by good treatment, he will no longer be apt to betray any alarm or uneasiness. When sufficiently advanced for the manege, the horse should be made to move in the allonge [long-rein] for some time, without a rider. For this purpose an easy cavesson [nose-band] is to be put upon his nose, and he is to be made to go forward round you, while you stand quiet holding the longe, and another man, if necessary, may follow him with a whip. This exercise should be performed with great gentleness, and but little at a time, in order that the horse may not be fatigued or discouraged. The first les- son of a horse is to go freely forwards, both to the right and to the left. You must not suffer him to go false, nor allow his pace to be shuffl- ing or irregular. No bend should be required of him at first ; the cord which is used should be long and loose, and the circles large, in order that he may go free and unconstrained. When THE HORSE. 359 you mean to change hands, stop and caress him, and entice him to come gently up to you. Some of the elder writers recommend the use of the bit from the beginning, as practised in some of the French schools. But it is better to dispense with the bit at first, as it is apt to oc- casion too much pressure upon the bars of a young horse ; to make him carry his head low and impede the motion of his shoulders. The natural paces of a horse are the walk, the pace and the gallop. The amble is natural to some horses, though not to others. It is an easy motion for the rjder, but very fatiguing for the horse. It may be taught, but is not used in the riding schools. "No pace is so well adapted for giving determined and spirited action as the trot, in which, therefore, the horse ought to ex- ercised for a considerable time, until he per- forms his work with ease, freedom, and vivacity. To work up a horse's head and neck into a pro- per position, or prevent him from sinking his neck or poking out his nose, does not require strength, but delicacy — a steady soft pliable hand of nice sensibility, which is acquired by practice. In mounting, the man should approach the horse gently, near the left shoulder, take up the reins separately, and grasping a handful of the 360 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. mane in the bridle hand, place the left foot softly in the stirrup, raise himself up, rest an instant with his body upright and pass his right leg clear over the saddle without rubbing against any thing, and set himself gently down. The reins must not be taken up too short, lest it should make the horse rear, run, fall back, or throw up his head ; but they should be of equal length, neither tight nor slack. The horse must be accustomed, from the beginning, to stand still to be mounted, and not move until the rider please, and for this purpose care must be taken not to alarm him. The position of the rider should be upright in the saddle, his body rather back, and his head held up with ease, but without stiffness, the breast pushed out a little, the thighs and leg9 turned in without constraint, so that the inside of the knees may press the saddle, the legs hangig down naturally near the horses sides without touching or tickling them, the feet being parallel, neither turned in nor out, the heels sunk a little lower than the toes. The body must be kept easy and firm when in motion. The left elbow should lean gently against the body, the left hand which holds the rein, being about two and a half inches forward of the body 8 THE HORSE. 36l immediately above the pommel of the saddle, and generally about of equal height with the elbow, the joint of the wrist easy and pliable. In every exercise the rider must carefully avoid all unsettled motion or wriggling with his legs, than which nothing can be more ungraceful in itself, more detrimental to a secure seat or more destructive of the sensibility of the horse's sides. It is impossible on the whole for a man to be too lirm, gentle, and settled on horse back. Every thing should be effected, if possible, by the reins only, in an easy, graceful and still manner ; the legs should not be used unless the hands fail, and then with the utmost gentleness. Bits should not be used in working a horse in hand, until ihe riders are firm and the horses bend well to the right and left, and even then with the greatest care and gentleness. The old custom of using strong and heavy bits is now abandon- ed in all good schools, because they pull down the horse's head, obstruct the action of the fore parts, and harden the hand of the rider as well as the mouth of the horse. A horse should be taught to leap, by degrees, beginning with small leaps and increasing them gradually as the horse improve*. When swim- ming, lie must be permitted to have his head, 362 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. and be as little constrained as possible ; he is with difficulty turned in the water, and, therefore, it should be done very gently and carefully, a very small portion of strength is sufficient to guide him. To teach a horse to stand fire, to bear the sound of drums, and other frightful sights or sounds, he may be accustomed to it by degrees at the time of feeding. These and all things requisite to make a horse perfectly steady, may be easi"y taught by good judgment, patience, and gentleness, and it is impossible to be too cir- cumspect in chastising a horse on these occasions, for instead of making him steady, it will fre- quently render him only more suspicious and more timid. An excellent writer on horseman- ship has remarked, that whenever you see a man beating any animal, you will almost always find, that the man is in the wrong and the animal is in the right. Of all bad tempers and qualities in horses, indeed, those which are occasioned by ignorant riders and harsh treatment are the worst. Patience and science are the best means of reclaiming even a wicked horse ; mere force combined with want of skill and temper will only tend to confirm him in vicious habits. The coolest and best natured horsemen, other things being equal, will always succeed best. THE HORSE. 363 We need not enlarge on the extraordinary sagacity and affection of the horse ; on his so- cial and gregarious disposition ; his love of home ; his wonderful docility, and the harsh and unfeeling treatment which he too often experi- ences, from the caprice of human fashions, and especially from sordid yet fallacious considera- tions of gain. Edinburgh Encyclopedia, My Horse. — " Why is it," says one of my worthy neighbors, " that your horse is always in so good case and trim, and appears in all the vigor and sprightliness of a colt, although you keep him in constant use, and, if I mistake not, are not very profuse with your grain % He ap- pears no more than about eight years old, and yet I think you have told me that he was in his teens." Such and similar questions are not unu- sual with regard to this excellent animal, whose age is but a few months short of nineteen years. There is, to be sure, something rather singular in the case, for generally horses become " food for the hounds" before they can arrive to this period of life, more or less devoted to hard service, and subject to much mismanagement, ill-treatment, and abuse. This faithful old family servant seems to have lost little of his youthful energy and spirit, and retains all his essential powers 364 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. in an eminent degree. His brilliant eye yet sparkles with fire ! He shows a fine limb ; and his motions are clear and sure. He is most per- fectly manageable and submissive in his temper ; often exhibiting a sagacity that might be said to bear no mean comparison with some who have, by chance, sometimes had him under their mer- ciless government. How long he will be able to hold out in these excellent qualities is altogether uncertain. I could wish, however, that it might be till I have no further use for them. One of my most inquisitive neighbors, who is not over exact in the care of his dumb beasts, imagines that he has made a satisfactory discovery rela- tive to the above queries, and that the matter is all now very plain. He says that the whole secret lies in the manner of keeping and dealing with the animal. It may be so : indeed, I have sup- posed that something of the kind might be the case. Still, I am of opinion that the method which I pursue is no difficult one, and all who did the like would find a benefit resulting from it. I endeavor to be regular with him in every thing, believing this to be of more importance than is commonly supposed. In this I never hesitate to give my personal attention, when I have reason to doubt the faithfulness of others. THE HOUSE* 365 His stable is suitably constructed : his forward feet stand upon a clay floor, and he is permitted to lie down if inclined. His cleaning down, car- rying, blanketing, food and drink, are never neg- lected. He has plenty of the best of hay, and not unfrequently a quantity of raw potatoes ; but not a superabundance of grain, because I belive there is no need of it, under a proper management. Being a herbivorous animal, his natural nourishment is hay and grass, and I deem it always important to follow nature* No one is permitted to abuse him by immoderate driving, or otherwise. Now I would ask, is not ail this as it should be? Does there appear any thing in the method that is extravagant or need- lessly expensive? Nay, is it not the most pro- per, reasonable, and humane course of manag- ing the most valuable quadruped? Yet, for want of this little attention how many a poor beast has come to an ultimely end, to the shame and disgrace of its unfeeling owner! I would that I could awaken certain of my fellow citi- zens into a generous reflection and an accor- dance of feeling on this subject. Let them ex- ercise their reason also, and consider wherein is the profit, and show how far it may be credit- able to men to permit any abuse to an animal 366 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. so noble and so useful to them — an animal, to use the language of the elegant Pennant,in which " Providence has implanted a benevolent dispo- sition and fear of the hnman race, together with a certain consciousness of the services we can render him ; and one that is endowed with every quality that can make him subservient to the uses of mankind, and will sometimes endure fatigue, even to death, for our benefit." Let us, then, reciprocate his kindness, in order to prolong his life and usefulness, and render him more fit for service. Old Colony Memorial. What fine and useful animals are horses. We cannot walk far so well, buc on horseback we can travel many miles to see our distant friends; and how convenient to ride in a carriage or light wagon in summer, and sleigh in winter. These pleasures we could not have without horses. Besides, they do a great deal of hard work, which men could not well do. They draw the plough, and the heavy wagons that carry corn and hay, and other things to market.* They travel so much that their hoofs would be worn out ; so they have iron shoes which the smith nails on without hurting them, [or should do so] for they feel no more in their hoofs than we do in the end of our nails. We ought to take good THE HORSE. 367 care of them, give them good hay and oats, and not ride them too hard, nor whip them as some cruel people do ; nor cut off their tails. How handsome they look with their long tails tossing about ! Their tails are of great use to them too, in keeping off the flies. Mrs. BarbaulcVs Lessons. Fodder. — One of the most simple and valu- able discoveries in agriculture, is to mix layers of green or new cut clover with layers of straw [or hay.] By this means the strength of the clover is absorbed by the straw, which thus im- pregnated, both horses and cattle eat greedily, and the clover is dried and prevented from heat- ing. This practice is particularly calculated for second crops of clover and rye grasses. Paris Advertiser. Nicking of Horses. — An effort in the cause of humanity cannot require apology. We have laws against cruelty to animals, and such laws are very proper, but it is somewhat mysterious to us, that one of the greatest cruelties that can be practised on one of the best and most useful animals, should not come within the penalties of tbose laws. The cruel practice of nicking horses is, it seems, part of the regular business of a farrier. For the information of those ig- 368 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS* norant of the torture inflicted upon that noble animal, for the gratification of one of Fashion's most extravagant whims, we copy from a farri- er's book, part of the " third and best" mode of Nicking. u lst. The tail being turned up with a strong arm in a direct line with the back- bone, cut imme- diately across the tail one and a half inches from the root, deep enough to separate entirely the ten- dons on each side of the under part of the tail. The large arteries lie so immediately under the tendons, that they are often. wounded or separated in performing this operation, which will be a great advantage in healing of the w T ounds, instead of do- ing injury by the loss of blood. When he has bled one or two gallons, the bleeding will stop by plac- ing the tail in pulleys, or applying a little salt or flour to the wound, and wrapping it moderately tight with a linen rag. 2d. Make two incisions lengthwise, (commencing two inches below the first or transverse incision,) and about three inches in length, which will expose the large ten- dons on each side. 3d. Make two other incisions of the same kind, commencing about one inch from the second, and in length running within two inches of the end of the tail. 4th. Make a transverse in- cision within half an inch of the termination of the THE HORSE. 369 incisions made lengthwise, pretty deep. With a buck's horn take up the large tendons in the se- cond incisions, and draw the ends out of the first; take up those of the third and draw the ends out of the second, and cut the tendons smooth. With a strong arm strain up the tail opposite the second incisions, until the bone slips or breaks; treat the tail opposite the third incision in the same manner; also the fourth. Wash the tail in strong salt water, and put the horse in a stall or pasture for two or three days. Wash the wounds clean with strong soap suds, and place the horse's tail in pul- leys for three weeks. Take from the neck-vein half a gallon of blood each week, or a gallon, should the tail be much inflamed," &c. We copy the above disgusting particulars, because we know that it is only necessary that they should be read by many, to induce them never to purchase a horse which has been so barbarously mutilated ; and to produce this ef- fect is the object of our article. To all humane persons we say, Will you not, if you purchase horses that havebeen nicked, in effect give your sanction to the practice ? An experienced far- rier has said, " No horse is worth so much by twenty five per cent, with his tail cut off;" a truth to which we will add that, in our opinion, no 24 370 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. horse is worth so much by fifty per cent that has been "Nicked." New York Workingmen's Advocate. Refinement. — Take a fine, noble-spirited horse, cut off the hair of his tail bob short — put him in harness with a short check rein — hitch him in the sun where the thermometer is as high as ninety, and where flies are plenty. If he is a horse of common sense, he will take the first opportunity to run away and destroy your car- riage, and dash out your brains, [if you have any.] Brooklyn Star. The unreasonable rage of cutting off all ex- tremities from horses, is in all cases a very per- nicious custom. It is particularly so in regard to a troop-horse's tail. It is almost incredible, how much they suffer at the picket for want of it : constantly fretting, and sweating, kicking about and laming one another, tormented and stung off their meat, miserable and helpless; whilst other horses, with their tails on, brush off all flies, are cool and at their ease, and mend daily ; but the docked ones grow every hour more and more out of condition. Whenever a horse makes resistance, one ought, before rem- edy or correction is thought of, to examine, ve- ry minutely all the tackle about him, if any THE HORSE. 37^ thing hurt or tickles him, whether he has any natural or accidental weakness, or in short, any the least impediment in any part. For want of this precaution, many fatal disas- ters happen : the poor dumb animal is frequent- ly accused falsely of being restive and vicious; is used ill without reason ; and being forced in- to despair, is in a manner obliged to act accord- ingly, be his temper and inclination ever so well disposed. It is very seldom the case, that a horse is really and by nature vicious ; but if such be found he will despise all caresses, and then chastisement becomes necessary. Patience and attention are never-failing means to reclaim such a horse ; in whatever manner he defends him- self: bring him back frequently with gentleness (not however without having given him proper chastisement if necessary) to the lesson which he seems mosc averse to. Horses are by de- grees made obedient, through the hope of recom- pense and the fear of punishment ; how to mix these two motives judiciously together is a very difficult matter ; it requires much thought and practice ; and not only a good head but a good heart likewise. The coolest and best natured rider will always succeed the best. By a dex- terous use of the incitements above mentioned, 372 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. you will gradually bring the horse to temper and obedience. Mere force and want of skill and of coolness, would only tend to confirm him in bad tricks. Horses are oftener spoilt by hav- iug too much done to them, and by attempts to dress [teach] them in too great a hurry than by any other treatment. After a horse has been well suppled, and there are no impediments, either natural or accidental, if he still persists to defend himself, chastisements then become ne- cessary ; but whenever this is the case, they must not be frequent, but firm, though always as little violent as possible. Of all bad tempers and qualities in horses, those which are occa- sioned by harsh treatment and ignorant riders are the worst. Rearing is a bad vice, and, in weak horses especially, a dangerous one. While the horse is up, the rider must yield his hand ; and when the horse is descending, he must vigorously de- termine him forwards ; if this be done except when the horse is coming down, it may add a spring to his rearing and make him fall back- wards. With a good hand on them, horses sel- dom persist in this vice, being naiurally afraid of falling backwards. No man ever yet did, or ever will, stop a horse, or gain any one point THE HORSE. 373 over him, by main force, or by pulling a dead weight against him. It is not to be wondered that dealers are always pulling at their horses ; that they have the spur continually in their sides, and are constantly checking at the rein ; by this means they make them bound and champ the bit, while their rage [and writhing] has the ap- pearance of spirit. We are apt to suppose that a horse fears noth- ing so much as his driver ; but may he not in many circumstances be afraid of instant destruc- tion ? of being crushed? of being drowned % of falling from a precipice ? may not the hanging load of a wagon seem to threaten the falling on him % when suddenly driven close up to an ob- ject, if he starts, is it not probable that he fears, that he must run against it % In these cases let him see that there is room for him to pass. A horse sees perfectly sideways, he is easily alarm- ed for his face and eyes, he will even catch back his head from a hand going to caress him ; de- fect of sight also often causes starting. If you inflict punishment for starting, the dread of chas- tisement prevails, and will cause more starting than the fear of the object. Bring your horse gently up to what he is afraid of, or let a quiet horse go before him. In leading the horse by 374 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. the bridle, do not turn your face to him if he hesitates to follow, nor raise your arms, show the whip, and jerk the bridle ; this frightens the horse, instead of persuading him to follow, which a little patience would do. On a jour- ney, if he flags, indulge him upon the bit more than you would in an airing ; be not so attentive to his nice carriage of himself, as to your en- couragement of him, and keeping him in good humor. Brittannica. Good heaven! How abject is our race, Condemned to slavery and disgrace! How cumb'rous is the gilded coach! The pride of man is our reproach. Were we designed for daily toil, To drag the plough-share through the soil, To sweat in harness through the road, To groan beneath the carriers load; And must our nobler jaws submit To foam and champ the galling bit? Shall haughty man our backs bestride And the sharp spur provoke our side. If then, to man we lend our pains, Aud aid him to correct the plains, With us should he divide the grain— Who shares the toil, should share the gain. Gay. THE HORSE. 375 The Farmer's Series of the Library of Useful Knowledge, includes the most economical and profitable and humane method of treating domes- tic animals ; and the art of rendering their ser- vices more extensive and permanent, and their health and comfort more secure ; and thus bet- tering the condition both of the farmer and of the animals entrusted to his care, at the head of which stands the Horse. The foal should be liberally fed during the whole of his growth, and his breaking in should commence early. His management should al- ways be kind and gentle. For no fault should the servant be so invariably discharged, as cruelty, or even harshness towards the rising stock, for their usefulness and obedience is founded on 376 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. their early attachment to and confidence in man. After the second winter the foal may have a small smooth'bit to play with and champ for a few days, and have portions of harness, also, gradu- ally put upon him, and at length go into the team before an empty wagon, the other horses will keep him moving, and the trainer gives him an occasional pat or kind word. We need not repeat that no whip or spur should be used in the first lessons. Few, we would almost say, no horses are naturally vicious. It is cruel usage has first provoked resistance, which has been followed by greater severity and the stub- bornness thus increased; an open warfare en- sued in which the man seldom gained an advan- tage, and the horse was frequently rendered un- serviceable. Young colts are sometimes very perverse, and many days may pass before they will permit the bridle to be put on, or the saddle. Harshness would double this time, but patience and kindness will at length prevail. On some morning of better humor than usual the bridle will be put on and the saddle will be worn, and this act of compliance being followed by kind- ness and soothing, and no pain or inconvenience resulting, all resistance will be at an end. We cannot much improve on the plan usually pur-? fHE HORSE. 377 sued by the breaker, except that there should be much more kindness and patience, and far less harshness and cruelty, than these persons are accustomed to exhibit, and a great deal more attention paid to the form and natural action of the horse. Next to preserving the temper and docility of the horse, there is nothing so import- ant as to teach him every pace and every part of his duty distinctly and thoroughly. Being tolerably perfect in his walk, he may be kept in a steady trot ; the lessons should be short, and docility and improvement rewarded with fre- quent caresses and handfuls of corn. Crupper straps may be attached to the clothing, which, playing about his sides, will accustom him to the flaping of the rider's coat. The annoyance will soon cease, as, when the colt finds no harm comes to him from these straps, he will disregard them. Hitherto, with a cool and patient breaker the whip may have been shown but will scarcely have been used ; the breaker may now occasionally quicken his pace and at the same time tap the horse with the whip, at first very gently ; the tap of the whip and quick- ening of the pace will soon become associated in the mind of the animal. If necessary, the taps may gradually fall a little heavier, and the feel- 378 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. ing of pain be the monitor of increased exer- tion. In using him to the saddle, some little caution will be necessary. If he be uneasy or fearful he should be spoken kindly to, and pat- ted, or a mouthful of corn given to him ; but if he offers serious resistance, the lesson must ter- minate for that day ; he will probably be more pacified on the morrow. The rider must mount and use the reins very gently, guiding the horse by them, patting him frequently, and having dismounted, give him a little corn. These pat- tings and rewards must afterwards be gradually diminished, and implicit obedience mildly but firmly enforced. Severity will not often be ne- cessary, in the great majority of cases it will be altogether uncalled for; but should the animal be wayward, it should be used. The education of the horse is that of the child. Pleasure is, as much as possible to be associated with the early lessons, but firmness, or if needs be, exertionmust confirm the habit of obedience. Tyranny and in cruelty will more speedily in the horse than even the child provoke the wish to disobey, and on every practicable occasion, the resistance to command. The restive and vicious horse is ninety-nine ca- ses out of a hundred, made so by ill-usage and not by nature. None but those who THE HORSE. 379 will take the trouble to try the experiment are aware how absolute a command, the due admix- ture of firmness and kindness will soon give us over any horse. Horse-breakers, and coach- men, and cartmen should be made to under- stand, that when the horse's head is first con- fined by the bearing rein, great gentleness, and care, and caution, are necessary. Injury must be done, if the throat be violently pressed upon, and especially when it is exposed to additional danger, from the impatience of the animal, un- used to control, and suffering pain. The head of the riding horse is gradually brought in by the skilful teacher who increases or relaxes the pres- sure, and humors and plays with the mouth, but the poor carriage-horse is confined by a rein that never slackens, and his nose is bent in at the expense of the larynx and windpipe, which being thus flattened, bent and twisted, the aper- ture is too small for rapid breathing, the breath rushes out with violence, and the sound and dis- ease called roaring, is produced. The arched neck and elevated head of the carriage-horse is an unnatural position, from which even the most accustomed animal is eager to be relieved. The mischief of tight reining is usually done on young horses. 380 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. A horse's biting is a habit sometimes acqui- red from the foolish teasing of grooms and sta- ble boys ; the prevention of this is in the power of every proprietor of horses. While he insists on the gentle and humane treatment of his cat- tle, he should systematically forbid this practice, which does not render a horse tractable by ope- rating as a reward, nor increase his affection for his groom, because he is annoyed and irritated, by being thus incessantly teased. The vice of kicking is often another consequence of this cul- pable habit of pinching and tormenting the horse. It is sometimes -cured by fastening a thorn bush or piece of furze on the partition. Shying on coming out of the stable, proceeds from the remembrance of some ill-usage or hurt, received on a former occasion ; it is difficult to cure. Rearing, if it be the fault of the rider, or if he has been using a deep curb and sharp bit, against which some of the best horses will contend, may be cured by using a snaffle bridle alone. The horse-breaker's remedy, that of pulling the horse backwards on soft ground, is worthy of him, and would be practised only by reckless and brutal men. Many horses have been injured in the spine, and others have broken their necks by being thus suddenly brought over. If rear- tHE HORSE. 381 ing proceeds from vice, and is unprovoked by the bruising and laceration of the mouth, it partakes of the inveteracy of all other restivenes : [the oc- casion and temptation for it must be avoided, as it cannot be cured.] Nature has given to young animals of every kind, a disposition to activity ; but to preserve the temper and pro- mote the health, the exercise must not be vio- lent. If the owner would insist that his horses be exercised within sight, or in the neighborhood of his residence, many an accident and irrepar- able injury would be avoided. It should be the owner's pleasure, and is his interest, personally to attend to all these things. He manages eve- ry other part of his concerns, and he may depend on it, that he suffers when he neglects or is in a manner excluded from his stables. If the horse were watered three times a day, especially in summer, he would often be saved from the sad torture of thirst and from many a disease. Whoever has observed the eagerness with which the over-worked horse, hot and tired, plunges his muzzle into the pail, and the difficulty of stopping him until he has drained the last drop, may form some idea of what he had previously suffered, and will not wonder at the violent spasms, and inflamation, and sudden death, that 382 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. often result. If he were oftener suffered to sat- isfy his thirst in the intervals of rest he would be happier and better. The horse who has fre- quent access to water, will not drink so much in the day, as another, who to cool his parched mouth, swallows as fast as he can and knows not when to stop. It is a judicious rule with travellers, that when a horse begins to refuse his food, he should be pushed no further that day. It maybe well to try if this does not proceed from thirst as much as from exhaustion, for his ap- petite and spirits sometimes return after the re- freshing draught. There are many causes to limit the duration of a day's work for a horse ; we shall content ourselves with endeavoring to check the barbarous practice of working horses to death, either by over-driving or over-loading them, and as is generally the case, follow the dic- tates of humanity and consult our interest at the same time, by not injuring so useful an animal ; we think that on an average, they might be worked eight hours a day. Tredgold, however, says that with good management, a full day's work may be completed in six hours, with ben- efit to their health and vigor. The barbarous operation of nicking has been long sanctioned by fashion, and the breeder or SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 3S3 384 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. the dealer must have recourse to it, if he would obtain a ready sale for his colts. It is not, however, practised to the same extent that it used to be, nor attended by so many circum- stances of cruelty. There is no necessity for half the punishment which many a groom in- flicts on the horse in the act of dressing. The currycomb should always be lightly applied; and even the brush need not be too hard, nor its brustles irregular, a soft brush will be much better. The stable should be as large for the number of horses it is to contain as circumstances will allow. Proper ventilation should be secured by tubes or apertures, as far above the horses as they can conveniently be placed, that all injuri- ous draught may be prevented. A supply of pure air is necessary to the existence and health of man and beast. Humanity and interest, as well as the appearance of the stable, will induce the general proprietor of the horse to place un- der him a moderate quantity of litter ; and the farmer, who wants to convert every otherwise useless thing into manure, will have this addi- tional reason for letting his horse always stand on litter. The first caution is frequently to re- move it; for every thing hastening to decom- THE HORSE. 385 position, should be carefully removed were life and health are to be preserved. To the eyes of carriage horses and hackneys, a dark stable is little less injurious than a foul and heated one. Horses kept in a dark stable are frequently notorious starters, and the often repeated violent effect of sudden light, induces inflammation of the eyes. Farmers should know that a dark stable is frequently a cover for great uncleanliness, a small cheap glass window would obviate this, but the light should hot be too glaring, for the stable is the resting place of the horse. — Library of Useful Knowledge. [In the above work, and the Encyclopedias Brittannica and Edinburgh, the articles were either written by talented and experienced men, or by them compiled from the most scientific and practical treatises extant ; however greatly their directions for the uniform practice of justice and tenderness may differ from the existing customs. These testimonies are adduced the more amply, on account of the very extensive employment of the Horse. Where human slavery exists not, a substitute for man's labor is derived from animal slavery. The leading rules and most of the details for the training and treatment of the horse, may be applied to Oxen and other domesticated animals; and the per- vading principle of constant regard for their comfort is of universal application.] 25 386 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. A HUJVTIIVG BALLAD. The huntsman winds his bugle horn; " To horse, 4;o horse, halloo, halloo!" His fiery courser snuffs the morn, And thronging dogs their lord pursue. The eager pack, from couples freed, Dash through the bush, the brier, the brake, While answering hounds and horn and steed, The mountain echoes startling wake. And fierce the huntsman onward rides, " Tantivy, yoics, and hark again!" , While spurring from opposing sides, His fellow hunters join the train. Fast, fast the huntsmen onward ride O'er moss and moor, o'er holt and hill, And onward fast on either side The baying grey hounds follow still. Up springs from yon deep tangled thorn The Stag, as white as mountain snow, And sharper rings the bugle horn, * " Hark forward, yoics, tally ho!" . He flies o'er rustic fences fleet, Thro' fields where autumn's treasures smile, Earn'd by the farmer's honest sweat, In scorching summer's sultry toil. HUNTING. 387 The steeds, the cruel spurs urge on, The hounds, the scourge's torturing blow. And harsher clangs the bugle horn, " Hark, forward, forward, holla ho!" A helpless wretch has crossed the way, He gasps the thundering hoofs below, But live who can or die who may, Still, u forward, forward!" on they go, And man and horse, and hound and horn, Destructive sweep the field along, While joying o'er the wasted corn Fell Famine marks the maddening throng. A.gain uproused, the tim'rous prey Scours wood and stream, and vale and hill, Hard run, he feels his strength decay — " Halloo, hark, forward!" echoes still. Too dangerous solitude appeared, He seeks the shelter of the crowd, Amid the flock's domestic herd, His harmless head he hopes to shroud. Through wood and stream, o'er vale and hill, His track the steady bloody-hounds trace: Through wood and stream, o'er vale and hill, The reckless hunters urge the chase, 388 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. And loud they wind the bugle horn, " Tantivy, forward, tally ho!" And through the herd in ruthless scorn, They urge the furious hounds to go. In heaps the throttled cattle fall, Down sinks the exhausted, mangled deer- The murd'rous cries his heart appal; Again he -starts new nerved by fear, But man and horse, and horn and hound, Fast rattling on his traces go: The rocks and woodlands ring around, "Away, hark forward, holla ho!" With wild despair's averted eye, Close, close behind he marks the throng With bloody fangs and eager cry — In frantic fear he scours along, But horse and man, and horn and hound, And clamor of the chase press on, And hoofs and howls, and bugle sound, Swell in discordant, frightful tone. With blood oesmeared and white with foam, While big the tears of anguish flow, With terror, toil, and pain o'ercome. , Death's agony compleats his woe. HUNTING. 389 The brutes have sacred rights to plead, [Life, freedom, food, and treatment mild, Though tyrant man makes Nature bleed,] God's meanest creature is his child. Burger, translated by Walter Scott, [In the above extract, the words of the huntsmen's chorus, and a few other lines have been varied. An eastern Nimrod, who, after chasing a tiger, had been, in turn, pursued and almost destroyed by the quadruped, relinquished this diversion, observing, that u Tyger-hunting was excellent sport when the tyger was the suf- ferer, but when the tyger was the hunter, it was not quite so pleasant." While there are hundreds of gay sporting songs to excite and express the joyous feelings of the huntsmen, it is but fair play that, at least, one, should portray the aggravated miseries of the animals, and the other incidental events of the chase. This is done in the German le- gendary ballad of Burger ; as a counterpoise to which, are inserted the following highly poetic and beautiful verses, which present the glowing charms of the chase and suppress its disgusting cruelties,] THE HUNTERS HORN. Swift from the covert the merry pack fled, When bounding, there sprang over valley and meadt Wide spreading his antlers, erected his head, The Sta.g, his enemies scorning; 390 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, Oh, had you then seen through torrent, througli brake, Each sportsman, right gallant, his rival race take, r Twould have pleased beauty's ear to have heard echo wake, To the hunter's horn — the hunter's horn The hunter's horn in the morning. Cleared was the forest, the mountains passed o'er, Yet swiftly their riders the willing steeds bore, The river rolled deep, where the stag spurned the shore, Yet owned no timorous warning ; So close was he followed, the foam where he sprung, Encircled and sparkled the coursers among, While the dogs of the chase their rude melody rung, To the hunter's horn — the hunter's horn — The hunter's horn in the morning. [An eccentric writer thus suggests the barba- rity of the chase as an antidote to any romantic extreme of the tender passion.] If ever hunting were an innocent amusement, and if ever it were desirable for man, it is for this purpose [to avoid the excess of love] that I would have recourse it. Hunting would harden the heart, as well as strengthen the body; it would accustom him to cruelty and blood, and such violent exercise would destroy the too great susceptibility of his heart. Roussecm, HUNTING. 391 Notwithstanding the general passion of most nations for hunting, it has by many been deemed an exercise inconsistent with the principles of humanity. The late king of Prussia expressed himself on this subject as follows ; " The chase is one of the most sensual of pleasures, by which the powers of the body are strongly exerted, but those of the mind remain unemployed. It is an exercise which makes the limbs strong, active and pliable, but leaves the head without improvement. It consists in a violent desire in the pursuit, and the indul- gence of a cruel pleasure in the death, of the game. I am convinced, that man is more cruel and savage than any beast of prey ; we exercise the dominion given us over these, our fellow- creatures, in the most tyrannical manner. If we pretend to any superiority over the beasts, it ought, certainly, to consist in reason ; but we commonly find that the most passionate lovers of the chase renounce this privilege, and con- verse only with their dogs, horses, and other irrational animals. This [their absolute and abused power over others] renders them wild and unfeeling ; and it is probable that they can- not be very merciful to the human species. For a man who can in cold blood, torture a poor in- 392 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. nocent animal, cannot feel much compassion for the distresses of his own species: and besides, can the chase be a proper employment for a thinking mind V 9 - The arguments used by his majesty against hunting seem, indeed, to be much confirmed by considering the various nations who have most addicted themselves to it. These, as must be seen from what has already been said, were all barbarous ; and it is remarkable, that Nimrod, the first great hunter of whom we have any account, was likewise the first who oppres- sed and enslaved his own species. As nations advance in civilization, it always becomes neces- sary to restrain by law the inclination of the people for hunting. This was done by the wise legislator Solon, lest the Athenians should ne- glect the mechanic arts on this account. The Lacedemonians, on the contrary, indulged them- selves in this diversion without control ; but they were barbarians, and most cruelly oppressed those whom they had in their power, as is evi- dent from their treatment of the Helots. The like may be said of the Egyptians, Persians, and Scythians, all of whom delighted in war, and oppressed their own species. The Romans, on the other hand, who were somewhat more civil- HUNTIBrG. 393 ized, were less addicted to hunting. Even they, however, were exceedingly barbarous, and found it necessary to make death and slaughter fam- iliar to their citizens from infancy. Hence their diversions of the amphi-theatre and circus, where the hunting of wild beasts was shown in the most magnificent and cruel manner ; not to mention their 6tili more cruel sport of Gladia- tors, &c. In two cases only does it seem possible to re- concile the practice of hunting [even when di- vested of all protracted torture] with humanity, viz : Either when an uncultivated country is overrun with noxious animals; or when it is necessary to kill wild animals for food. In the former case the noxious animals are killed be- cause they themselves would do so if they were allowed to live; but if we kill even a lion or a tiger merely for the pleasure of killing him, we are, undoubtedly, chargeable with cruelty. In like manner our modern fox hunters expressly kill foxes, not in order to destroy the breed of these noxious animals, but for the pleasure of seeing them exert all their power and cunning to save themselves, and then beholding them torn in pieces after being half dead with fatigue. 394 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. This refinement in cruelty, it seems, is their fa- vorite diversion. The quick transition from a state of perfect health to death, mitigates the severity ; but here the transition is not quick. The sportsmen estimate their diversion by the length of the chase ; and during all that time the creature must be under the strongest agonies of terror ; and what person of humanity is there, who must not feel for an animal in this situation? All this is assented by an advocate of hunting, who says, "Hard is the heart that does not commiserate the sufferer." Is not this an acknowledgment on his part, that before a person can become a thorough sportsman, he must harden his heart and stifle those amiable sensations of compas- sion, which on all occasions ought to be encour- aged towards every creature, unless in case of necessity. But in the present ease no necessity is or can be pretended. If a gentleman choose to regale himself with Venison of any kind, he may breed the animals for the purpose, [or slay the wild ones with as little delay and pain as possible.] We call Domitian cruel, because he took pleasure in catching flies, and stabbing them with a bodkin. A butcher is excluded from setting on a jury, on account of his being HUNTIKG. 395 accustomed to sights which are deemed inhu- man ; but whether it is deemed more inhuman to knock down an ox at once with one ax, or to tear him in pieces with dogs, (for they will accomplish the purpose if properly trained,) must be left to the sportsmen to determine. The great argument in favor of hunting, that it contributes to the health of the body aud ex- hileration of the spirits, seems equally fallacious with the rest. It cannot be proved that hunters are more healthy or long-lived than other peo- ple. That exercise will contribute to the pre- servation of health, as well to the exhileration of the mind, is undoubted ; but many other kinds of exercise will do this as well as hunting. A man may ride from morning to night, and amuse himself with viewing and making remarks on the country through which he passes; and surely there is no person will say that this ex- ercise will tevid to impair his health or sink his spirits. A man may amuse aud exercise him- self, not only with pleasure, but with profit also, in many different ways, and yet not accustom himself to behold the death of animals with in- difference. It is this that constitutes the cruelty of hunting, because we thus wilfully extinguish, in part, that principle naturally implanted in 396 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. our nature, which, if totally eradicated, would set us not only on a level with the most fero- cious wild beasts, but perhaps considerably be- low them ; and it must always be remembered, that whatever pleasure terminates in death is cruel, let us use as many palliatives as we please, to hide that cruelty from the eyes of others, or even from our own. Encyclopedia Brittannica. THE BIRDS. On tree, or bush, the Lark was never seen; The daisied lea he loves; there with his mate He founds their lowly house. Beneath her breast The young she warms from morn to eve; from eve,, * To morn shields from the dew; their gaping bills Claim all the labor of the parent care. Ah, labor vain! the herd-boy long has marked His future prize. Ah! little think The harmless family of love, how near, The robber treads! He stoops and parts the grass, And looks with eager eye upon his prey. Quick round and round the parents fluttering wheel, Now high, now low, and utter shrill the plaint Of deep distress. — Pleasure from pain derived Is pleasure much alloyed. — The sportsman keen Comes forth, and heedless of the winning smile Of infant day pleading on mercy's side, FOWLING. 397 Anticipates with eager joy the sum Of slaughter, that, ere evening hour, he'll boast To have achieved ; and many a gory wing, Ere evening hour, exultingly he sees, Drop fluttering 'mid the heath — even 'mid the bush, Beneath whose blooms the brooding mother sat Till round her she beheld her downy young. At last mild twilight veils the insatiate eye And stops the game of death. The frequent shot Resounds no more. Silence again resumes Her lonely reign, save that the' mother's call . Is heard repeated oft, a plaintive note! Mournful she gathers in her brood, dispersed By savage sport, and o'er the remnant spreads Fondly her wings, close nestling 'neath her breast, They cherished cower amid the purple blooms. Nor mid the rigors of the wintry day, Does savage man the enfeebled pinion spare; When, mid the withered rushes, he discerns His destined prey; sidelong he stooping steps, Wary, and with a never erring aim, Scatters the flock wide-fluttering in the snow; The purpled snow records the cruel deed. — The jetty Blackbird's fledgeless young, present, Five gaping bills. With busy wing, and eye Quick-darting, all alert, the parent pair Gather the sustenance which heaven bestows. 39S TREATMENT OP BIRDS. Alas! not long the parents' partial eye Shall view the fledging wing; ne'er shall they see The timorous pinions' first essay at flight. The tyrant school-boy's eager bleeding hand Their house, their all, tears from the bending bush; A shower of blossoms mourns the ruthless deed! The piercing anguished note, the brushing wing, The spoiler heeds not; triumphing, his way Smiling he wends. The ruined, hopeless pair, O'er many a field follow his townward steps, Then back return, and perching on the bush, Find nought of all they loved, but one small tuft Of moss and withered roots. Drooping they sit Silent. Afar at last they fly, o'er hill And lurid moor, to mourn in other groves, And soothe, in gentler grief, their hapless lot. Meantime the younger victims, one by one, Drop off, by care destroyed, and food unfit. Perhaps some one survives, encaged, and hops From stick to stick his small unvaried round; Or flutt'ring stands, with pinions plumed for flight Poor birds ! most sad the change ! of daisied fields, Of hawthorn blooming sprays, of boundless air, With melody replete, for clouds of smoke, Or creak of grinding wheels, or scolding tongue Shrilly reviling, more discordant still! When, blithe, the lamb pursues in merry chase, THE FACTORY. 399 His twin around the bush; the Linnet, builds Her bower. Sweet minstrel, long may'st thou delight The fragrant birch. May never fowler's snare Tangle thy struggling foot ! or if thou'rt doomed Within thy narrow cage, thy dreary days To pine, may ne'er the glowing wire (oh, crime accursed ! ) Quench with fell agony thy shrivelling eye! Deprived of air and freedom, shall the light Of day, thy simple pleasure, be denied. Noi is thy lot more hard, than that which youth (Poor Linnets!) prove in many a Factory : The light for them is but an implement Of toil. In summer with the sun they rise To toil; and with his setting beam scarce cease To toil; nor does the short'ned winter day Their toil abridge; for ere the cock's first crow, Aroused to toil they lift their heavy eyes, And force their childish limbs to rise and toil; At eve their toil 's protracted; one shred of time Must not be lost, but thriftily ekes out To-morrow's and to-morrow's lengthened task. No joys, no sports have they; what little time, The fragment of an hour, can be retrenched From labor, is devoted to a sham Instruction. Viewing all around the bliss Of liberty, they feel its loss the more, 400 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. Freely through boundless air, they wistful see The wild bird's pinion past their prison flit, But no sweet note by them is heard, all lost, Extinguished in the noise that ceaseless stuns the ear. Such are the sad effects of that sad system, Where in the face of Nature's law, is wrung Gain from the laboring hands of playful childhood; From living intellectual machines, By senseless, sordid, heartless avarice. The Birds of Scotland, by James Grahame. To be read in School. — There are few things more disgraceful in children than to be cruel to those harmless creatures, which are unable to defend themselves. If I see a child pull off the wings of an~insect, or throw stones at the toad, or take pains to set foot upon a worm, I am sure that there is something wrong about him, or that he has not been well instructed. There was once a boy who loved to give pain to every thing that came in his way, over which he could gain any power. He would take eggs from the mourning Robin, and torture the unfledged Sparrow, Cats and Dogs, the peaceable Cow, and tta faithful Horse, he delighted to worry and distress. I -do not like to teli you the many cruel things that he did. He was told that such TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, 401 things were wrong. An excellent lady with whom he lived used to warn and reprove him for his evil conduct — but he did not refornr When he grew up he became a soldier. He was never sorry to see men wounded, and blood running upon the earth. He became so wicked as to lay a plan to betray his country, and to sell it into the hands of the enemy. This is to be a traitor. But he was discovered and fled. He never dared return to his native land, but lived despised, and died miserably in a foreign clime. Such was the end of the cruel boy, who loved to give pain to animals. He was born at Norwich, in Connecticut, and the beautiful city of his birth is ashamed of his memory. His name was {£/** Benedict Arnold. ^£jj How far Benevolence should extend. — Even as that feeling of extended benevolence which led a Howard to the cell of a prison, and prompted a La Fayette to aid the struggle for indepen- dence of infant America — even as such a senti- ment is nobler, because less contracted, than local or party attachments, so is that philan- thropy incomplete, which after embracing the human race, stops short and evinces no sym- pathy with other sentient creatures. Brutes, like men, suffer and enjoy ; we ought to lament. 26 402 TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. and endeavor to avert, as far as opportunity offers, their sufferings; and we may find a pure source of pleasure in contributing towards their well being and contemplating their comfort, the result of our exertions. The station held by the gentler sex, it has been said, is a sure criterion of civilization : so, it seems to me, is the treatment of the lower animals. I could not think highly of a nation, that should treat these dumb servants with neg^ lect and cruelty : and I hardly know a more amiable national characteristic than a custom said to be universal in Sweden, of exposing, during the Christmas holidays, a sheaf of un- thrashed wheat on a pole in the vicinity of each dwelling, that even the poor sparrows, reduced perhaps, during the inclement season almost to starvation, may share the enjoyment of man, and rejoice at his period of festivity. Indiana Disseminator. The Lower Orders of Animals. — I know not upon what principle of reason and justice it is, that mankind have founded their right over the lives of every creature that is placed in a subor- dinate rank of being to themselves. Whatever claim they may have in right of food and self- defence, did they extend their privilege no TREATMENT OP ANIMALS. 403 further than those articles would reasonably carry them, numberless beings might enjoy their lives in peace, which are now hurried out of them by the most wanton and unnecessary cru- elties. I cannot indeed discover why it should be less inhuman [in principle] to crush to death, a harmless insect, whose single offence is that he eats that iood which nature has prepared for his sustenance, than it could be to kill any more bulky creature for the same reason. There are few tempers so hardened to the impressions of inhumanity, as not to shudder at the thought of the latter ; and yet the former is practised with- out the least check of compassion. This seems to arise from the gross error of supposing, that every creature is really in itself contemptible, which happens to be clothed with a body greatly disproportionate to our own : not considering, that great and little are merely relative terms # The Millipedes, for instance, rolls itself round upon the slightest touch; and the Snail gathers in her horns upon the least approach of our hand — are not these the strongest indications of their sensibility? And is it any evidence of ours, that we are not therefore induced to treat them with a more sympathizing tenderness? I was extremely pleased with a sentiment I met. 404 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, with the other day in honest Montaigne. Thai good-natured author remarks, that "there is a certain general claim of kindness and benevolence which every species of creatures have a right to from us. 79 It is to be regretted that this gener- ous maxim is not more attended to in education, and pressed home upon tender minds in its full extent and latitude. I am far indeed from thinking, that the early delight which children discover in tormenting flies, &c. is a mark of an innate cruelty of temper; because this turn may be accounted for upon other principles \ and it is entertaining unworthy notions of the Dkity, to suppose that he forms mankind with a pro- pensity to the most detestable of all dispositions. But most certainly, by being unrestrained in sports of this kind, theyjnay acquire by habit, what they never would have learned from nature, and grow up in a confirmed inattention to every kind of suffering but their own. Accordingly, the Supreme Court of Judicature at Athens, thought an instance of this sort not below its cognizance, and punished a boy for putting out the eyes of a poor bird, that had unhappily fallen into his hands. It might be of service, therefore, it should seem, in order to awaken, as early as possible, THE LOWER ANIMALS. 405 in children an extensive sense of humanity, to give them a view of several sorts of insects, as they may be magnified by the assistance of glasses, and to show them that the same evident marks of wisdom and goodness prevail in the formation of the minutest insect, as in that of the most enormous Leviathan : that they are equally furnished with whatever is necessary not only to the preservation, but the happiness of their be- ings in that class of existence to which Provi- dence has assigned them : in a word, that the whole construction of their respective organs distinctly proclaim them the objects of the di- vine benevolence, and therefore that they justly ought to be so of our's. [Jlnon.'] Can man conceive that all the different kinds, and orders, and classes of animals, thus differ- ently organized, and differently endowed with intelligence, and possessed of an equality of corporeal feeling, that the poor worm whom tread'st on, In corporeal suffering, feels a pang as great f As when a giant dies. This is an interesting question and deserves to be examined at some length. It may, perhaps, save the heart of genuine sensibility from a few of those pangs which even under the happiest 406 TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. circumstances of life will still be called forth too frequently, and if there be a human being so hardened and barbarized, as to take advantage of the conclusion to which the enquiry may lead us, he will furnish an additional proof of its correctness in his own person, and show him- self utterly disqualified for the discussion. Life and sensation are not necessarily con- nected ; the blood is alive, but we know not that it has sensation, and vegetables are alive, but we know nof that they possess any. Sensation, so far as we are able to trace it, is the sole result of a nervous structure, yet, though thus limited, it does not exist equally in every kind of the same structure, nor in every part of the same kind. As the degree of intelligence de- creases, we have reason to believe that the intensity of the touch or corporeal feeling de- creases also, excepting in particular organs, in which the sense of touch is employed as a local power. In many animals of the three classes of amphibials, insects, and worms, dreadful wounds, unless actually mortal, seem hardly to accele- rate death ; hence the pain endured by such animals must be considerably less than would be suffered by animals of a more perfect kind, especially by man. M. Ribaud, with a spirit of TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. 40? experimenting that I will not justify, stuck dif- ferent beetles through with pins, and severely lacerated others, all of which lived their usual term as though uninjured. Redi removed the whole brain from a land tortoise, its eyes closed soon after, but it moved about as before and groped for its path; a fleshy integment grew over the opening of the skull, and the animal lived for six months, I will not pursue this ar- gument any further ; it is in many respects pain- ful and abhorrent; and consists of experiments of which I never have been, and trust I never will be, a participant. But I avail myself of the facts themselves, in order to establish an impor- tant conclusion in physiology. John Mason Good's Boole of Nature. If we were to change the epithets usually ap- plied to noxious and disagreeable insects and animals, it might form new associations of ideas in the minds of the rising generation, and de- stroy their foolish prejudices. Thus we might call the spider, "the ingenious spider," and the frog, " the harmless frog." Young persons should learn to draw those insects they have an aversion to, and by that means they would be accustomed to the figures of the insects and would not mind them. Darwin, 408 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. FABIiES. The Boys and the Frogs. — On the margin of a large lake, which was inhabited by a great number of Frogs, a company of Boys happened to be at play. Their diversion was duck and drake ; and whole vollies of stones were thrown into the water, to the great annoyance and dan- ger of the poor terrified Frogs. At length one of the most hardy, lifting up his head above the surface of the lake ; Ah, dear children, said he, why will you learn so soon the cruel practices of your race? Consider, I beseech you, that though this may be sport to you, 'tis death to us. Moral. — 'Tis unjust and cruel, to raise our- selves mirth at the expence of another's peace and happiness. The Wolf and the Lamb. — When cruelty and injustice are armed with power, and determined on oppression, the strongest pleas of innocence are preferred in vain. A Wolf and a Lamb were accidently quench- ing their thirst together at the same rivulet. The Wolf stood towards the head of the stream, and the Lamb at some distance below. The injuri- ous beast resolved on a quarrel, fiercely de- mands — How dare you disturb the water which I am drinking? The poor Lamb, all trembling. FABLES. 409 replies, How, I beseech you can that possibly be the case, since the current sets from you to me ? Disconcerted by the force of truth ; he changes the accusation : Six months ago, says he, you vilely slandered me. Impossible, re- turns the Lamb, for I was not then born. No matter, it was your father then, or some of your relations ; and immediately seizing the innocent Lamb, he tore him to pieces. Moral. — They who do not feel the sentiments of humanity, will seldom listen to the pleas of reason. Ihe Jlss and his Tyrant. — A diligent Ass, daily loaded beyond his strength by a severe Master whom he had long served, and who kept him at very short commons, happened one day to be opprest with a more than ordinary bur- then of earthen ware. His strength being much impaired, and the road deep and uneven, he un- fortunately made a trip, and, unable to recover himself, fell down and broke all the vessels to pieces. His Master, transported with rage, be- gan to beat him most unmercifully* Against whom the poor Ass, lifting up his head as he lay on the ground, thus strongly remonstrated : Unfeeling wretch ! to thy own avaricious cruelty, in first pinching me of food, and then loading 410 FABLES. me beyond my strength, thou owest the misfortune which thou so unjustly imputest to me. The Lion and the Man. — The Lion in a dis- pute with the Hunter, contends that his own strength is superior to that of Man. After a long controversy, the hunter leads the Lion to a monument on which was carved a Lion laying down his head on the lap of a man. The beast denies that to be sufficient proof; "for," says he, "Men carved what they would ; but if Li- ons iv ere the artists,' the Man would now be repre- sented under the feet of the Lion." Esop. The Wolf and the Shepherds. — How apt are men to condemn in others what they practice themselves without scruple ! A Wolf peeping into a hut, where a company of Shepherds were regaling themselves with a joint of mutton ; waugh ! said he, what a cla- mor would these men have raised, if they had catched me at such a banquet! Plutarch. Vice and Fortune. — Fortune and Vice had once a violent contest, which of them had it most in their power to make mankind unhappy. Fortune boasted that she could lake from men every external good, and bring upon them eve- ry external evil. Be it so, replied Vice ; but this is by no means sufficient to make thena FABLES. . 411 miserable without my assistance : whereas with- out yours, I am able to render them completely so ; nay, in spite too of all your endeavours to to make them happy. Plutarch. Pythagoras and the Ci'itic. — Pythagoras was one day very earnestly engaged in taking an exact measure of the length of the Olympic course. A conceited critic smiling to see the Philosopher so employed, asked him, why he gave himself so much trouble? Because, re- plied Pythagoras, we are assured, that Hercules, when he instituted the Olympic games, himself laid out this course by measure, and determined it to the length of six hundred feet, measuring it by th<5 standard of his own foot. Now by taking an exact measure of this space, and see- ing how much it exceeds the measure of the same number of feet now in use, we can find how much the fool of Hercules, and in propor- tion his whole stature, exceeded that of the pre- sent generation. A very curious speculation, says the Critic, and of great use and importance, no doubt! And pray sir, what may be the re- sult of your enquiry at last? The result of my enquiry replied the Philosopher, is this; that if you always estimate the labors of the Philosopher, the designs of the Patriot, and the actions of the 412 FABLES. Hero, by the standard of your own narrow con- ceptions, you will ever be greatly mistaken in your judgment concerning them. The Bear. — A Bear, who was bred in the savage deserts of Siberia, had an inclination to see the world. He travelled from forest to for- est, and from one kingdom to another, making many profound observations in his way. In the course of his excursions, he came by accident into a farmer's yard, where he saw a number of poultry standing to drink by the side of a pool. Observing that at every sip they turned up their heads towards the sky, he could not forbear en- quiring the reason of so peculiar a ceremony: They told him, that it was by way of returning thanks to heaven for the benefits they received; and was indeed an ancient and religious custom, which they could not with a safe conscience, or without impiety, omit. Here the bear burst in- to a fit of laughter, and at once mimicking their gestures, and ridiculing their superstition, in the most contemptuous manner. On this, the Cock, with a spirit suitable to the boldness of his character, addressed him in the following words : As you are a stranger, Sir, you may perhaps be excused the indecency of this behaviour ; yet five me leave to tell you, that none but A BEAR FABLES, 413 would ridicule any religious ceremonies whatever 9 in the presence of those who believe them of *m- portance. Dodsley's Fables. The Wild Boar and the Sheep. Against an elm a sheep was ty'd, The butcher's knife in blood was dy'd: The patient flock, in silent fright, From far beheld the horrid sight, A savage Boar, who near them stood, Thus mock'd to scorn the fleecy brood. All cowards should be served like you, See, see, your murderer is in view : With purple hands, and reeking knife, He strips the skin yet warm with life, Your quarter' d sires, your bleeding darns, — The dying bleat of harmless lambs, Call for revenge ! O stupid race ! The heart that wants revenge is base, I grant, an ancient Ram replies, We bear no terror in our eyes; Yet think us not of soul so tame; Which no repeated wrongs inflame; Insensible of ev'ry ill, Because we want thy tusks to kill. Know, those who violence pursue, Give to themselves the vengeance due, For in these massacres they find 414 PROVERBS. The two chief plagues that waste mankind. Our skin supplies the wrangling- bar, It wakes their slumbering sons to war; And well revenge may rest contented, Since Drums and Parchment were invented. Gay. PROVERBS. [The comments by Thos. Fielding.'] Human Blood is all of one color. Not the pain but the cause makes the martyr. Not the scaffold but the crime makes the dis- grace. Laws are not made for the good. Love is incompatible with fear. A man is a lion in his own cause. There is nothing like a man's having " a stake in the hedge.!' Give a good servant a share in the firm and he is zealous for his employer, or a citizen his political rights and he fights valiantly for the commonwealth. There could be no patriotism among feudal vassals [nor negro slaves] who have neither property nor justice. They might exclaim with the Spanish proverb, To what place can the Ox go where he must not plough ? How can the cat help it if the maid is a fool % Said when the maid does not set up things se- curely out of the cat's way. PROVERBS. 415 Feed a pig and you'll have a hog. The master's' eye makes the horse fat. A fat man riding on a lean horse was asked why he was so fat and his horse so lean ? u Because," says he, u I feed myself, but my servant feeds my Horse." He gives twice that gives in a trice. He that benefits the public, obliges nobody. A mob has many heads but no brains. When honor grew mercenary, money grew honorable. The best throw of the dice, is to throw them away. A lie has no legs, but a slander has wings. A liar is a bravo towards God, and a coward towards men. A man that breaks his word, bids others be false to him. A liar is not to be believed when he speaks the truth. Bear and forbear is good philosophy. Do not evil to get good by.it, which never yet happened to any. Do what you ought, come what cau. Drunkenness is voluntary madness. He that kills a man when he is drunk must be hanged when he is sober. 416 PROVERBS. The example of good men is philosophy visi- ble. Folly is the poverty of the mind. He who kuows useful things, and not he who knows many things is the wise man. The best mode of instruction is to practice what we preach. Hell is full of good meanings, but Heaven is full of good works. If every one mended one all would be mended. The longest life is but a parcel of moments. It is human to err, but diabolical to persevere. Knowledge concealed is buried treasure. Knowledge directs practice, yet practice in- creases knowledge. Never be weary of well-doing. Repent a good action, if you can. Even the wicked hate vice in others. Of all wars peace ought to be the end. When the drums beat, the laws are silent War is the sink of all injustice. A good conscience is a continual feast. Nature takes as much pains in the womb, in forming a beggar as an emperor. It is a bad rule that will not work both ways. SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. 417 APHORISMS. Men in no respect approach so nearly to God, as in conferring well-being on men, Cicero. We must not contradict but instruct him that contradicts us : for a madman is not to be cured by another's running mad also Jintisthenes. Be always at leisure to do good ; never make business an excuse to decline the offices of hu- manity. Marcus Jlurelius. Charity is the scope of all God's commands. St. Chrysostome* He who conceals a useful truth, is equally guilty with the propagator of an injurious false- hood. St. Jlugustine. It is better to retain children in their duty by a sense of honor and by kindness, than by fear or severity, Terence. Power acquired by guilt, no one ever exer- cised lo any good purpose. Tacitus. Put this restriction on your pleasures : be cau- tious that they injure no being that has life. Zimmerman. It is very laudable to exercise kindness to- wards brute creatures, that we may keep our- selaes more remote from all manner of cruelty towards men. Grotius. 27 ■ 418 APHORISMS, Never do that through another, which it is possible to execute yourself. Montsequieu. Can a generous mind be contented to see Ought that fee ling possesses endure Misery 2 Both Justice and' Mercy demand wholesome laws; The wretch who, unmov'd, bitter anguish can cause Full amply deserves the same pangs to sustain; And be punished himself with like exquisite pain. Poems for Youth by M. P. London. Cowards are cruel, but the brave Love mercy and delight to save. Gay, What scolding person could ever govern a family. People scold because they cannot gov- ern themselves, how then can they govern others'? Those who govern well are generally calm ; they are prompt and resolute, but steady and mild. Education polishes good natures and corrects bad ones. Might overcomes 'right. With polished manners polished minds agree, And true politeness is philanthropy. Cowper. SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 419 THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. The joy and gayety and happiness of any nature [being] of which we have formed no pre- vious opinion, either favorable or unfavorable, nor obtained any other ideas than merely that it is sensitive, fill us with joy and delight. The apprending the torments of any such sensitive nature gives us pain. When indeed we have received unfavorable apprehensions . of any nature, as cruel and savage, we begin from our very public affections, to desire their misery, as far as it may be necessary to the protection of others. But that the misery of another for its own sake is never grateful, we may all find by making this supposition : that we had the most savage tiger or crocodile, or some greater monster of our own kind, a Nero or Domitian, chained in some dungeon ; that we were perfectly assured they should never have power of doing further in- juries; that no mortal should ever know their fate or fortunes, nor be influenced by them ; that the punishments inflicted on them would never restrain others by way of example, nor any ex- ample shown be discovered ; and that the first heat of our resentment were allayed by time, 420 THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. No mortal in such a case would incline to tor- ture such wretched natures, or keep them in con- tinual agonies, without some prospect of good arising from their sufferings. On apprehending injury to ourselves or others, Nature wisely determines us to study defence not only for the present, but for the future. The uneasy sensa- tions of anger arise, and this furious pain is allayed by the misery of the injurious. Our nature scarce leads to any further resentment, when once the injurious seems to us fully seized with remorse, so that we fear no further evils from him, or when all his power is gone. Who would not prefer safety from injury, to the having revenged an injury? Who can dwell upon a scene of tortures though practised on the vilest wretch, or can delight either in the sight or description of vengeance prolonged beyond all necessity of self-defence or public interest? " The pleasure of revenge, then, bears the same comparison to the pleasures of Humanity and Virtue, as the slaking of the incessant burning thirst of a fever, does to the natural enjoyments of grateful food in health." The pursuits of the learned have often as much folly in them as any others, when studies are not valued according to their use in life, or THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 421 their real pleasures but for their difficulty and obscurity, and consequently their rarity and dis- tinction. Nay, an abuse may be made of the most noble and manly studies, even of Morals, Politics, and Religion itself, if our admira- tion and desire terminate upon the knowledge itself, and not upon the possession of the dispo- sitions and affections, which should be incul- cated in these studies. No part of knowledge indeed can be called entirely useless ; abstract mathematics, mythology, painting, music, archi- tecture have their own pleasures, the only fault lies in letting any of those inferior tastes engross the whole man to the exclusion of other pursuits of virtue and humanity. Tn governing our moral sense and desires of virtue, nothing is more necessary than to study the nature and tendency of human actions, and to extend our views to the whole species and to all sensitive natures, as far as they can be affected by our conduct. Our moral sense thus regulated and constantly followed in our actions, may be the most mnsrnnt source of the most stable pleasure ; and also, the most probable means of obtaining the pleasures of honor. The public good can never be opposed to private virtue, and had all men true opinions, honor 422 MORAL GOOD AND EVIL. could only be obtained by virtue or serving the public. Moral Good and Evil. — The universal bene- volence towards all men, we may compare to that principle of gravitation, which* perhaps, extends to all bodies in the universe, but in* creases as the distance is diminished, and is strongest when bodies come to touch each other. Now this increase upon nearer approach, is as necessary as that there should be any attraction at all. For a general attraction equal in all dis- tances, would, by the contrariety of such multi- tudes of equal forces, put an end to all regularity of motion and perhaps stop it altogether. Be- sides this general attraction, the learned in these subjects show us a great many other attraction's among several sorts of bodies, answering to some particular sorts of passions, from some special causes. And that attraction or force by which the parts of each body cohere, may represent the self love of each individual. Every moral agent justly considers himself as a part of this rational eyptcm which may be use- ful to the whole ; so that he may be, in part, an object of his own universal benevolence; and the preservation of the system requires every one to be innocently solicitious about himself. MORAL GOOD AttD EVIL. 423 Benevolence denotes the internal spring of virtue; it may mean a calm extensive affection or good-will towards all beings capable of hap- piness or misery; or towards smaller systems, or to individuals, as patriotism and friendship; or the several kind of particular passions as love, pity, sympathy, and congratulation. The morality of every agent consists of a compound proportion of his benevolence and abilities, and his goodness depends on these two jointly. In different agents, their abilities being equal, the quantity (ff good is proportioned to the goodness of temper or benevolence ; and the goodness of temper being equal, the quantify of good is as the abilities. Virtue or goodness of temper, is, (other things being equal) directly as the amount of good, and inversely as the abili- ties ; for where the ability is the greatest, there is evidently less virtue in the same amount of good. In most actions^ self-love is another force, sometimes conspiring with, and sometimes opposing benevolence. Perfection of goodness or virtue is when the amount of good fully equals the abilities. Francis Llutcheson. 424 THE AFFECTIONS AND PASSION*, I^OVE AND HATRED. These two affections arise* immediately and inevitably, from our perpetual solicitude to enjoy the existence we possess. They are coeval with our ideas of good and evil. They are experienced by every one, in every situa- tion, and in every period of life. They are in- spired by every object which possesses some peculiarity, or is apparently endowed with some quality, of a beneficial or a pernicious tendency; that is, by whatever is at)le*, according to our conceptions, to promote or impede enjoyment or happiness: from the smallest gratification up to the most exalted felicity; from the smallest discomfiture, to the depth of misery. They are also the parents of every other passion and affection. Love may be considered either as a principle or as an affection. As a principle, it may be defined an invariable preference of Good ; an "universal and permanent attachment to Well- being or Happiness." In this point of view, the love of good, and solicitude to procure it, is not only the ruling principle of every sentient being, but it meets with the full approbation of every rational being. For, nothing can excel that THE AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS. 425 which is good, and nothing can be valuable, but as it has a tendency to promote it. Hence when w«5 speak of love abstractedly, we call it the Principle of love : and when this principle is directed towards any particular object it be- comes an Affection ; when the affection of love immediately relates to ourselves personally, it is called Self-love ; and it marks the peculiar con- cern and solicitude we entertain of our own in- terest, prosperity, or enjoyment. Self affection, when it does not interfere with the claims of others, is not only an innocent affection, but it manifests the wisdom and benevolence of the great source of good. By rendering every be- ing active in the pursuit of his own happiness, the greatest quantity of general good is most effectually secured. Jis the largest communities consist of individuals, were each individual to* seek his own welfare, without prejudice to his neighbor, the individual stock of each icould ren- der happiness universale When our love or desire of good goes forth to others, it is termed Good-will, or Benevolence* This usually operates with various degrees of force, according to our various degrees of inti- macy. When love extends to the whole human race* 426 THE AFFECTIONS AN'J PASSIONS. it is termed Philanthropy ; a principle which compivhn ids the whole circle of social and fruited virtues. Considering every man as his neighbor, and loving his neighbor as truly and invariably a^ he loves himself, the Philanthro- pist cannot he unjust or ungenerous. In its utmost extent, the love of Benevolence embraces all beings capable of enjoying any portion of good ; and thus it becomes universal benevolence: which manifests itself by being pleased with the share of good every creature enjoys ; in#a disposition to increase it ; in feel- ing an uneasiness at their sufferings; and in the abhorrence of cruelty under every disguise, or pretext. Hatred expresses the manner in which we are affected, by our preception of whatever we sup- pose to be t vil. Notwithstanding the excesses and exaggerations of Hatred and Malevolence, ihey dannot possibly be so extensive in their operations as the principle of Love. The affec- tion of Hatred has particular and partial evils alone for its objects, while the principle of Love may embrace the universe. Happiness appears to be our birthright, of which all the painful sen- sations raised by Hatred, are the professed guar- dians. The wish for happiness is perpetual and *THlJ AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS 427 unlimited, while our evil affections expire with the causes which gave them existence. Nor can malevolence extend itself to every individual in the creation, in a manner similar to the con- trary virtue* That happy cultivation of our na- ture, which inspires a benevolence toward all animated beings, cannot possibly have a perfect contrast, or complete parallel, in the most un- cultivated and brutalized. This would constitute a ferocity of character which can scarcely be found in the most insane* When tyrants, cruel and ferocious, are diffusing misery, in the wan- tonness of their power, their conduct does not proceed from an abstract principle of universal hatred; — but from some low policy of self-de- fence ;- — from an infernal spirit of revenge for supposed injuries; — from inordinate self-love, which creates an insensibility to human woes; — from pride, vanity, and excessive ignorance, which induce men to imagine that they shall be revered as deities, because they imitate the de- structive thunder of heaven ; and to dream that their favorite idol Power, can only be made known and established, by deeds which excite consternation and horror! Indeed the affection of Hatred is of so unplea- sant a nature, that the Being who could hate 428 THE AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS. every thing, would be his own tormentor. The sole pleasure of which malevolence is capable, proceeds from the gratification of revenge; which can only be directed against particular objects. Nor is it merely bounded; it is irrita- ting, unsatisfactory, and punished by the sacri- fice of all the enjoyments which flow from the contrary disposition. It will not be necessary, in the process of our investigation, to have the distinction between the rational and irrational creation, always in our view. The dispositions towards each are simi- lar; though rational beings, from their superior importance, are the most interesting, and the diversity of their situations admits of a greater variety of correspondent affections. Both may be comprehended under the title of general benevolence. It may be considered as an inward feeling, which is excited by the particular and extraor- dinary situation of another; or which harmo- nizes with the condition and feelings of its ob- ject. Sympathy indicates a mind attuned to correspondent vibrations, whether they be of a pleasing or displeasing kind. Consequently it operates with various degrees of strength, accor- ding to the degrees of danger to which its objects THE AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS. 429 may be exposed ; — to the misery they suffer, and the aggravating circumstances attending; — to the good fortune with which they are surprised and delighted ; — and to their capacities of re- ceiving good. It also disposes the mind to ac- commodate itself to the tastes, dispositions, and manners of others, in the social intercourses of life. The impulse of Sympathy renders the generous mind completely courageous. It is a stranger to personal fear: all its anxieties are transferred to the perils of the object. Rancor is that degree of malice which preys npon the possessor. His heart is torn with vex- ation when he contemplates the happiness of an- other, or when he is foiled in his evil purposes towards him. Cruelty. A cruel disposition respects the par- ticular temper manifested in the contemplation or infliction of absolute misery. It has various degrees. Sometimes it is expressive of that hardness of heart, which is able to look upon extreme distress without any sensation of hu- manity. Sometimes cruelty is indicated by the voluntary and unnecessary infliction of misery; and in its highest state it rejoices and triumphs in the diffusion of horrors; in the wanton shed- ding of blood, and spreading desolation. It is 430 THE AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS. gratified with the convulsions of agony ; groans and lamentations are music in its ears. This fiend-like temper may proceed from a natural insensibility, strengthened by a perverse education; — from envy; — -from a spirit of re- venge for supposed injuries;-— from cowardice, resenting the panic it feels ; — or from insatiable ambition, which wades through torrents of blood, and renders the mangled bodies of the slain, stepping-stones to that pre-eminence of station after which it aspires. Horror rouses within us such a degree of re* sentment, as becomes the severest reproof to the enormities at which it shudders ; and when excited by deeds of cruelty it calls up a lauda- ble spirit of revenge; and it renders the mildest and meekest dispositions solicitous for a power of retaliation. Indignation is always directed against the violation of some sacred law, which is respected by every man who is not destitute of virtue and honor. Contempt is the punish- ment directed against that meanness of charac- ter and perverseness of conduct, which sink a man below the level of social intercourse, and disqualify him for decent and respectable so- ciety. The grand distinctions in moral conduct are THE AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS, 431 indicated by the terms Virtue and Vice. Vir- tue requires repentance, as the medium of- resto- ration to order and to duty; for this purpose it permits remorse, but never enjoins despair. It allows of fear as far as this excites to caution ; and even of terror, when the mind has been sur- prised by something tremendous; but habitual fear it terms cowardice, and to terror perpetual- ly excited by smalt causes, it gives the appella- tion of pusillanimity. It approves of the emula- tion which animates to worthy deeds, or to ad- vancement in every species of excellence: nor does it forbid the ambition which is productive of general good; but it execrates the wretch who wades through seas of blood, and tramples upon the slain, to rise above those whom his baneful sword has spared. Envy, which is the antipode to benevolence, Virtue knows not : and though it admits of jealous alarms upon great occasions, and prompted by strong presumptive evidence, yet it is a stranger to unauthorised suspicions. It permits the moderate desire of wealth, as the means both of comfort and useful- ness ; but it lays rapaciousness and avarice un- der the severest interdict. Ic allows of self-de- fence, and we are occasionally inspired with strength and courage for the purpose; but it 432 THB AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS. disdains the use of treacherous means of securi- ty, and the acts of cruelty which characterize the barbarian and the coward. Treachery and Cruelty are more detestable than common acts of injustice, because the one is a grosser abuse of that confidence without which society cannot subsist; and the other manifests not only inordinate self-love, but the want of that natural affection which is due to every being ; substituting the affection of hatred in its place. Both Virtue and Vice are the offspring of pas- sions and affections in themselves innocent. The natural desires and affections implanted in our very make, are void of guilt. Respecting these, virtue simply requires a proper choice, in nocent pursuits, and moderation in our enjoy- ments. Vice consists in an improper, or for- bidden choice, in the excess or perversion, of the natural propensity of our natures. Lawless ambition is the excess of a desire to distinguish ourselves, which, under certain restrictions, is a blameless incentive to useful actions. As every species of debauchery consists in the irregular indulgence of the appetites, in themselves natu- ral and innocent, thus are the most disorderly and malevolent affections the abuse of some af- THE AFFECTIONS AlfD PASSIONS. 433 fections, which in certain circumstances, may be allowable and beneficial. Love, Joy, Ectasy, Complacency, Satisfac- tion, Contentment, lively Hope, these are de- cidedly the sources of present enjoyment. The social affections of Benevolence, Sympathy, Compassion and Mercy, are also other ingredi- ents of happiness, from a less selfish and more refined source than the preceding. A steady, uniform disposition manifested by incessant en- deavors to promote happiness, is invariably re- warded with a large portion of it. Benevolence places the mind at a remote distance from little jealousies and envyings : it tempers the irrita- tive nature of anger, and teaches compassion to subdue it. Through Benevolence, the good en- joyed by another becomes our own, without a robbery or privation. This divine principle har- monizes the mind with every thing around, and feels itself pleasingly connected with every living being. It generates, communicates and enjoys happiness. When benevolence manifests itself by sympathy, compassion, and mercy, some oortion of uneasiness, it is acknowledged, ge- i erally accompanies the sensation congenial t( its nature: but the exercise of these af- fections communicates a pleasing pain. The 28 434 THE AFFECTIONS AND PASSIONS. degree of uneasiness is more than recompensed, by the satisfaction enjoyed from the relief of distress; and even from the consciousness of a disposition to relieve. There is often a luxury in sympathetic sorrow ; and the tear shed over distress becomes a pearl of inestimable price. Every species of Benevolence possesses the quality which our great dramatic poet has as- cribed to a merciful diposition. " The quality of Mercy is twice blessed; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes." Ireatise on the Passions, by T. Cogan, INGRATITUDE. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude: Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude, Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, Thou dost not bite so nigh, As benefits forgot, Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp, As friend remember' d not. Shakespeare. SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. 435 IiOVE. Ah Love ! dearest hopes to inspire. Thou banishest wisdom the while, And the lips of the nymph I admire, Seem'd forever adorn' d with a smile. Alas! from the day that we met, What hope of an end to my woes, When I cannot endure to forget The glance that undid my repose. Now I know what it is to have strove With the torture of doubt and desire, What it is to admire and to love, And to leave her we love and admire. I prized every hour that went by, Beyond all that pleased me before, And now they are gone and I sigh, And I grieve that I prized them no more. 436 LOVE. When forced the fair nymph to forego, What anguish I felt in my heart, Yet I thought — but it might not be so, 'Twas with pain that she saw me depart. She gazed as I slowly withdrew, My path I could hardly discern, So sweetly she bade me adieu — I thought that she bade me return. I have found out a gift for my fair, I have found where the wood pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deedl For he ne'er could be true she averr'd, Who could rob a poor bird of its young; And I lov'd her the more when I heard Such tenderness fall from her tongue. I have heard her with sweetness unfold How that Pity was due to a Dove; That it ever attended the bold, And she called it the sister of Love. But her words such a pleasure convey, And her goodness so much I adore, Let her speak and whatever she say Methinks I should love her the more. Yet my song shall resound through the grove With the same sad complaint it begun, love. 437 How she smiled, and I could not but love, Was faithless, and I am undone. She is faithless and I am undone: Ye that list to the woes I endure, Let reason instruct you to shun, What it cannot instruct you to cure. Shenstone. Bounteous Imagination/ be still my guide, my companion, my friend, — thy sensibility may sometimes blacken the storm, or give added strength to the blow of affliction ; — but thou be- stowest in counterpoise a thousand beams of ra- diant joy ; which are ever playing round the minds thou inhabitest — they feel them reflected from each delicacy of sentiment — each act of humanity — each triumph of honor! — every thing from the summit of the mountain, to the depth of the vale, lives and blossoms for them ; the immense round of creation is theirs. Sketches of Nature by George Keate. 438 SPIRIT Or HUMANITY. HIGHLAND MARY. With many a vow and lock'd embrace, Our parting was full tender, And pledging oft to meet again, We tore ourselves asunder. But oh! fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower so early; Now green 's the sod, and cold 's the clay,. That wraps my Highland Mary! Oh pale, pale now those rosy lips, I oft have kiss'd so fondly! And closed for aye, the sparkling glance That dwelt on me so kindly i And mould'ring now in silent dust, The heart that loved me dearly ! But still within my bosom's core, Shall dwell my Highland Mary L Burns^ spirit otf humanity. 439 WOMAN. Trough many a land and clime a ranger, With toilsome steps Fve held my way^ A lonely unprotected stranger, To all the stranger's ills a prey. While steering thus my course precarious, My fortune still has been to find Men's hearts and dispositions various, But gentle Women, ever kin cL Alive to every tender feeling, To deeds of mercy ever prone; The wounds of pain and sorrow healing, With soft Compassion's sweetest tone. No proud delay, no dark suspicion Stints the free bounty of their heart : They turn not from the sad petition, But cheerful aid at once impart. Formed in benevolence of Nature, Obliging, modest, gay and mild, Woman 's the same endearing creature, In courtly town and savage wild* When parched with thirst, with hunger wasted, Her friendly hand refreshment gave : How sweet the coarsest food has tasted, What cordial in the simple wave! 440 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY* Her courteous looks, her words caressing Shed comfort on the fainting soul. Woman *s the stranger's general blessing From sultry India to the Pole! Ledyard* THE TEAR. Oh! that the Chemist's magic art Could chrystalize this sacred treasure ! Long should it glitter near my heart, A secret source of pensive pleasure. The little brilliant, ere it fell, Its lustre caught from Chloe's eye; Then, trembling, left its coral cell — The spring of Sensibility ! Sweet drop of pure and pearly light ! In thee the rays of Virtue shine ; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine. Benign restorer of the soul ! Who everfly'st to bring relief, When first we feel the rude control Of Love or Pity, Joy or Grief. The sage's and the poet's theme, In every clime, in every age; SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 441 Thou charm'st Fancy's idle dream, In Reason's philosophic page. That very law* which moulds a tear, And hids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth and sphere, And guides the planets in their course! Rogers. PHILANTHROPY. Parum est coercere improbos poena, nisi probos effi- cias discipline It avails little to restrain the bad by punishment, unless you render them good by instruction. Debtors and felons, as well as hostile foreign- ers, are men, and by men ought to be treated as men. Those who, when told of the misery of those in prison, reply, " let them take care then to keep out," forget the vicissitudes of human affairs, and the unexpected changes to which all men are liable, so that the affluent may in time become indigent, debtors, and prisoners. — In a well regulated prison, the first care is to find a good man for a jailer ; one that is honest, active, sober and humane. The charge is too important to be left wholly to a jailer, paid in- deed for his attendance, but often tempted by *The law of gravitation. 442 THE STATE OF PRISONS. his pasbions or interest to fail in his duty. Coun- ty prisons are under the immediate care of the magistrates or sheriffs, who have the power of inspection. The inspector should make his vi- sit once a week, changing his days. He should see that every room is clean ; hear the com- plaints of each prisoner, and immediately cor- rect what he finds manifestly wrong. A good jailor would be pleased with this scrutiny — it would do him honor, and confirm him in his station ; in case of a less worthy jailor, the ex- amination is more needful, that he may be re- primanded, and, if incorrigible, discharged. The inspector should act from the noble motive of doing justice to his prisoners and service to his country. Dr. Young says, " If half the misery that is felt by some, were seen by others, it would shock them with horror ;" and Fenelon makes this delicate remark : " The prosperous turn away their eyes from the miserable, not through insensibility, but because the sight is an interruption to their gayety." Surely the ma- gistrates should act upon the more righteous principle of duty. Great care should be taken to prevent infection, to keep the rooms clean and well ventilated ; the -court yard should have a pump or other provision for water in plenty for THE STATE OF PRISONS. 443 the prisoners, they should be kept at work ten hours a day, meal-times included, and permit- ted to walk about when they have done working. Adhere to strict rules of sobriety and diligence, in order to correct their faults and make them for the future, useful to society. Gentle disci- pline is commonly more efficacious than severi- ty ; which should not be exercised but on such as will not be amended by lenity. These should be punished by solitary confinement on bread and water for a time proportioned to their fault. Endeavor to persuade the offender that he is corrected only for his own good. I know not any reason why a house of correction may not be as well conducted as any other house with an equally numerous family. Let the sober and diligent be distinguished by some preference in their diet and lodging, or by shortening their term of confinement, and giving them when die* charged a good character. The notion that convicts are ungovernable is certainly erroneous. Some of the most desperate may be managed with ease to yourself and advantage to them. Many of them are shrewd and sensible, manage them with calmness yet with steadiness ; show them that you have humanity, that you aim to make them useful members of society ; let them 444 THE STATU Of PiUSOKS* know the rules of the prison, and that they are not defrauded or their provisions or clothes by contractors of jailors. Such conduct would pre- vent mutiny in prisons and attempts to escape, which I am fully persuaded are often owing to prisoners being made desperate, by the inhu- manity and ill-usage of their keepers. Henry Fielding remarks that " the sufferings of the poor are indeed less observed than their mis- deeds ; not from any want of compassion, but because they are less known ; and this is the true reason why we so often hear them mention- ed with abhorrence and so seldom with pity." In several cantons of Switzerland there were no criminal prisoners, the principal reason of it, is the great care that is taken to give children, even the poorest, a moral and religious education ; and another cause is the laudable police of speedy justice. In Scotland, also, where there are but few prisoners ; no parish is without a school, and in some there are four or five. Hu- go Arnot remarks, " We do not think it possi- ble that a nation can attain to improvement in science, to refinement of taste and in manners, without at the same time acquiring a refinement in their ideas of justice, and feelings of human- ity. The State of Prisons, by John Howard. THE STATE OF PRISONS. 445 And now, Philanthropy, thy rays divine Dart round the globe, from Zembla to the line; O'er each dark prison plays the cheering light, Like northern lustres o'er this vault of night. From realm to realm, with cross or crescent crown'd, Where'er mankind and misery are found, O'er burning sands, deep waves, or wilds of snow, Thy Howard, journeying, seeks the house of woe. Down many a winding step to dungeons dank, Where anguish wails aloud, and fetters clank, To caves bestrew' d with many a mouldering bone, And cells, whose echoes only learn to groan; Where no kind bars a whispering friend disclose, No sunbeam enters, and no zephyr blows, He treads inemulous of fame or wealth, Profuse of toil and prodigal of health ; With soft assuasive eloquence expands Power's rigid heart, and opes his clenching hands: Leads stern-eyed Justice to the dark domains, If not to sever, to relax the chains ; Or guides awaken'd mercy through the gloom, And shows the prison, sister to the tomb ! — Gives to her babes the self-devoted wife, To her fond husband liberty and life ! 446 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. Wrench'd the red scourge from proud Oppression's hands, And broke, curst Slavery! thy iron bands. E'en now, e'en now, on yonder Western shores Weeps pale Despair, and writhing Anguish roars; E'en now in u Freedom's" groves with hideous yell Fierce Slavery stalks and slips the dogs of hell; From vale to vale the gathering cries rebound And sable " millions" tremble at the sound. — Who right the injured, and reward the brave, Stretch your strong arm, for ye have power to save! Throned in the vaulted heart, his dread resort, Inexorable Conscience holds his court; With still small voice the plots of guilt alarms, Bares his masked brow, his lifted hand disarms; But, wrapp'd in night, with terrors all his own, He speaks in thunders when the deed is done. Hear him, ye Senates ! hear this truth sublime, He who allows oppression shares the crime. Darwin. Pitt/. — Our sympathy with the pleasures and pains of others, distinguishes men from other animals ; and is probably the foundation of what is termed our moral sense ; and the source of all our virtues. When our sympathy with those miseries of mankind, which we cannot alleviate, pity. 447 rises to excess, the mind becomes its own tor- mentor ; and we add to the aggregate sum of human misery, which we ought to labor to di- minish. Such is however the condition of mor- tality that the first law of nature is, " Eat or be eaten. " We cannot long exist without the de- struction of other animal or vegetable beings, either in their mature or their embryon state, unless the fruits which surround the seeds of some vegetables, or the honey stolen from them by the bee, may be said to be an exception to this assertion. (Bot. Gar. P. I. Cant. 1, 6. 278 Mte.) Hence from the necessity of our nature, we may be supposed to have a right to kill those creatures which we want to eat, or which want to eat us. But to destroy even insects wantonly shows an unreflecting mind or an unfeeling heart. Nevertheless, mankind may well be divided into the selfish and the social ; that is, into those whose pleasures arise from gratifying their ap- petites, and those whose pleasures arise from their sympathising with others. And acccord- ing to the prevalence of these opposing propen- sities, we value or dislike the possessor of them. In conducting the education of young people, it is a nice matter to inspire them with so much benevolent sympathy or compassion, as may 448 pity. render them good and amiable, and yet not so much as to make them unhappy at the sight of incurable distress. We should endeavor to make them alive to sympathize with all reme- diable evil, and at the same time to arm them with fortitude to bear the sight of such irremedi- able evils, as the accidents of life must frequently present before their eyes. Darwin's Zoonoonia. If we could confine ourselves to doing no harm to our fellow creatures, our merit would be mere- ly negative, which would scarcely give us a right to the title of rational creatures. By the de- crees of Providence man is essentially an active and sociable being. The effects of one man's activity must necessarily affect his fellow-man ; and a perfect neutrality they cannot preserve. If they do not benefit they must needs harm each other. That we ought in no instance to do any act of injustice or unrighteousness, but on the contrary, that it is our indispensable duty to act in conformity with the eternal laws of the eter- nal law-giver, and that we are to make the best use of our capacity; are truths too well estab- lished, too deeply engraven on our hearts, to be doubted of or denied, even by the most daring villain who vainly strives to stifle the reproach T>ity. 449 ing voice of conscience. The man of refined morality, however, neither does nor can stop here. He feels it to be his duty, not only to be good, but also to enquire in what situation and through what means he may be able to produce the greatest sum of good to his fellow creatures. These principles I take to be self-evident. God, the common father of all beings, has committed many inferior animals to our care, formed them for o-^r benefit, and placed them under our authority ; but this our authority should be exercised not only with tenderness and mercy, but also conformably to the laws of justice and gratitude. But to what horrid devi- ations from these benevolent institutions of our common creator are we daily witnesses! Look at the merciless wagoner, butcher, and sports- man, showing barbarous, cool and premeditated cruelty ! Numberless are the acts of wanton ferocity, injustice and ingratitude, that we see committed on the most harmless animals ; and these hprrible atrocities are perpetrated not mere- ly with impunity, but without censure. The laws of self-defence unquestionably jus- tify us in destroying such animals as would de- stroy us, or as would injure our property or an- noy our persons. That we have a right to de- 29 450 SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. prive of life those animals that are formed for our use, propagated by our culture, and fed by our care, is liable to no doubt ; but it is no less certain, that thisdisagreable office should always be performed with tenderness and compassion ; and that no circumstances ought to be omitted, which can render those executions as quick and easy as possible. Sketch of Education, by Joseph Neef. THE LAWS OF NATURE. From the nature of man, his own good and the public good are inseparably united and in- terwoven. What other inference can we draw from the great disparity between the brain of man and that of other animals, than that man is so formed by Nature, that the influence of his brain on the government of his actions may be more conspicuous. But this cannot otherwise be effected than by proposing to himself the greatest end, which is the common good of the universe, but of rational beings especially, and in the best manner procuring the assistance of the best means, that is, by procuring to himself the favor of all rational agents by an active be- nevolence. Certainly, a more simple apparatus of orgaus is sufficient for the preservation of the THE LAWS OF NATURE. 451 individual, as in trees, many of which flourish longer than the age of man, and is also sufficient for the propagation of its species, in which is contained somewhat of the common good. There- fore so great a quantity of brain, with so many admirable instruments thereto pertaining, (such as the organs of all the senses and of voluntary motion,) must be designed for nobler uses. In some birds and fishes, the bulk and weight of the brain is not greater than that of the eyes, yet even these want not understanding enough to live peaceably with their own species. How much less can it be wanting to men in general (consistently with their happiness) who have the largest organs for acquiring knowledge, espe-* cially since the greatest part of human happiness consists in the use of the brain, in order to the attainment of the greatest good. The Rt Rev. Richard Cumberland. God wills and wishes the happiness of his crea- tures. The method of coming at the will of God concerning any action by the light of Nature, is to inquire into the tendency of that action to pro- mote or diminish the general happiness. Ac- tions, in the abstract, are right or wrong accord- ing to their tendency, the agent is virtuous or vicious according to his design* It is the utility 452 THE LAWS OF NATURE. alone of any moral rule that constitutes the ob- ligation of it. Whatever is expedient is right. But then it must be expedient on the whole, at the long run, in all its effects, collateral and re- mote, as well as in those that are immediate and direct. General rules are necessary to every moral government whose object is to influence the conduct of reasonable creatures. The general consequences of an action are of less importance than the particular. Paley. When a man cares not what sufferings he cau- ses to others, and especially if he delights in other meivs sufferings and makes them his sport, this is cruelty. And not to be affected with the sufferings of other people, though they proceed not from us, but from others, or from causes in which we are not concerned, is unmercifulness. Mercy and humanity are the reverse of these. He, who religiously regards truth and nature, will not only be not unjust, but (more) not un- merciful, and much less cruel. Not to be affect- ed with the afflictions of others, so far as we know them, and in proportion to the several de- grees of them, though we are not the causes of them, is the same as to consider the afflicted as persons not in affliction ; that is, as being not THE LAWS OP NATURE. 453 what they are, or (which tethe same) as being what they are not. One can scarcely know the suffering's of an- other without having at least some image of them in his mind : nor can one have these ima- ges without being conscious of them, and as it were feeling them. Next to suffering itself is to carry the representation of it about with one. So that he, who is not affected with the calami- ties of others, so far as they fall within his know- ledge, may be said to know and not to know ; or at least to cancel his knowledge, and contradict his own conscience. There is something in human nature resulting from our very make and constitution, while it retains its genuine form, and is not altered by vicious habits ; not perverted by transports of re- venge or fury, by ambition, company, or false philosophy ; nor oppressed by stupidity and neglecting to observe what happens to others; I say, there is something which renders us obnox- ious to the pains of others, causes us to sympa- thize with them, and almost comprehends us in their case. It is grievous to see or hear (and al- most to hear of) any man, or even any animal whatever in torment. This compassion appears eminently in them, who upon other accounts are 454 THE LAWS OP WATURE. justly reckoned among the best of men : in some degree it appears in almost all ; nay, even some- times, when they more coolly attend to things, in those hardened and execrable monsters of cruelty themselves, who seem just to retain only the least possible tincture of humanity. The Phersean tyrant, [Alexander,] who had never wept over any of those murders he had caused among his own citizens, wept when he saw a tragedy but acted in the theatre : the reason was, his attention was caught here, and he more observed the sufferings of Hecuba and Andro- mache, than ever he had those of the Pherseans ; and more impartially, being no otherwise con- cerned in them but as a common spectator. Up- on this occason the principle of compassion, im* planted in human nature, appeared, overcame his habits of cruelty, broke through his petrifac- tion, and would shew that it could not be totally eradicated. It is therefore according to nature to be affected with the sufferings of other peo- ple : and the contrary is inhuman and unnatu- ral. Such are the circumstances of mankind, that we cannot (or but very few of us, God knows) make our way through this world without en- countering dangers and suffering many evils : THE LAWS OF NATURE. 455 and therefore since it is for the good of such, as are so exposed or actually smarting under pain or trouble, to receive comfort and assistance from others, without which they must commonly continue to be miserable, or perish, it is for the common good and welfare of the majority at least of mankind, that they should compassion- ate and help each other. To do the contrary must therefore be contrary to nature, and wrong. And besides, it is by one's behavior and actions to affirm, that the circumstances of men in this world are not what they are ; or that peace, and health, and happiness, and the like, are not what they are. Let a man substitute himself into the room of some poor creature dejected with invincible pov- erty, distracted with difficulties, or groaning un- der the pangs of some disease, or the anguish of some hurt or wound, and without help aban- doned to want and pain. In this distress what reflections can he imagine he should have, if he found that every body neglected him, no body so much as pitying him, or vouchsafing to take notice of his calamitous and sad condition? It is certain, that what it would be reasonable or unreasonable for others to do in respect of him, he must allow to be reasonable or unreasonable 456 THE LAWS OF NATURE, for him to do in respect of them, or deny a man- ifest truth. Ifunmercifulness, as before defined, be wrong, no time need to be spent in proving that cruelty is so. For all that is culpable in unmercifulness is contained in cruelty, with additions and ag- gravations. Cruelty not only denies due regard to the sufferings of others, but causes them ; or perhaps delights in them, and (which is the most insolent and cruel of all cruelties) makes them a jest and subject of raillery. If the one be a defect of humanity, the other is diametrically opposite to it. If the one does no good, the other does much evil. And no man, how cruel soever in reality he was, has ever liked to be reckoned a cruel man : such a confession of guilt does nature extort ; so universally doth it reject, condemn and abhor this character. Hence may be deduced the heinousness of all such crimes, as murder, or even hurting the per- son of another any how, when our own necessa- ry defence does not require it (it being not pos- sible, that any thing should be more his, than his own person, life and limbs); robbing steal- ing, cheating, betraying, defamation, detraction, adultery, &c, with all the approaches and ten- dencies to them. For these are not only com- THE LAWS OF NATURE. 457 prised within the definition of injustice, and are therefore violations of it ; but commonly, and most of them always, come also within the de- scription of cruelty. Bodily inclinations and passions when they observe their due subordination to reason are of admirable use in life, and tend many times to noble ends. So far are they, if rightly man- aged, from being mere infirmities. And cer- tainly the philosopher who pretends to absolute apathy maims nature aud sets up for a half- man or / know not ivhat When the stoics say that a wise man may relieve one who wants his help without pitying him ; I own indeed hemay, but I very much doubt whether he would. If he had not some compassion, and in some measure felt the ails or wants of the other, I scarce know how he should come to take him for an object of his charity. Man must labor to improve his rational faculties by such means as are (fairly) practicable by him, and consistent with his cir- cumstances. If it be a disadvantage to be ob- noxious to error and act in (he dark, it is an ad- vantage to know such truths as may prevent this; if so, it is a greater advantage to know or be capable of knowing more such truths, and then again not to endeavor to improve those fa- 458 THE LAWS OF NATURE. culties by which these truths are apprehended, is to shut them out as being not what are. No rational animal can act according to truth, the true nature of himself, and the idea of a crime, if he doth not endeavor not to commit it, and when it is committed to repair it if he can, or at least show himself to be penitent. Nature Delineated, by William Wollaston* The general object of education is not obtain- ed ; men are not rendered intelligent and virtu- ous, because children are commanded, not in- structed ; and are obliged to learn maxims, not to acquire information or practice duties. The body acquires the use of its powers, not only by maxims and doctrines, but by trial and experi- ment ; and the mind must obtain the use of its faculties, the right direction and employment of its passions, in which virtue and happiness con- sist, by repeated trials and axperiments, not by doctrines and commands. The virtues may be produced by attending to the general, though silent, instructions of nature. Do you wish to induce a child to love his brothers and sisters? Do not enjoin it [merely] as a duty ; for injunc- tion cannot effect, but may obstruct your pur- pose. Do you wish to render him susceptible of the great passions of love, friendship, patri- THE LAWS OF STATURE. 459 otism, and universal benevolence'? Do not [merely] inflame or enfeeble his opening mind with the glowing strains of ancient or modern eloquence on the subjects : train him in the actual exercise and art of sacrificing present gratifica- tions to those at a little distance ; and teach him, by repeated experience, that every pleasure is multiplied by the participation of others. This will render truth, fidelity, tenderness, compas- sion, generosity, and benevolence, not as they now are, matters of sentimental antithesis, of poetical ornament, and oratorial enthusiasm ; but dispositions essential to the mind, principles interwoven with its constitution, and habits it must be under the necessity of indulging. Williams. I have endeavored as much as possible to fa- miliarize my children to those things that excite terror and disgust. In their infancy we accus- tomed them to look at and even to touch spiders, frogs and mice. It was enough to set them the example, and they soon wished to have them and bring them up. I have seen Adelaide weep at the death of her favorite frog and show as much grief as if she had lost the most beautiful canary-bird. When it has thundered and light- ened, every body near them has cried out, 460 THE LAWS OP NATUKE. "what a charming sight! look at the clouds and the flashes of lightning !" and the children have been delighted to sit at the windows to watch the progress of the storm. Locke and Rousseau have both said, that you should never pity children when they fall down and hurt themselves. In my opinion, if you do not sooth them when really hurt, you run a great risk of hardening their hearts. I think therefore when they suffer any misfortune or accident, they ought to be pitied, provided they do not complain ; but if they scream and cry violently [and unnecessarily] I would appear to disregard them, and let tliem see that your contempt stifles your compassion. As in every thing else, so in this ; you must yourself set the example. If you cannot suffer pain or illness without perpet- ually complaining, all you may say about forti- tude and courage will make but little impression. In fact, the praise of sensibility may occasion affectation and hypocrisy from the wish of hear- ing it repeated. You should never praise your children for lively and quick sensibility, but for habitual and constant proofs of duty and sweet- ness of temper. Never avail yourself of the dangerous stimu- lus emulation but with the utmost precaution. THE LAWS OF NATURE. 461 Take great care not to make your children en- vious of each other; for if ever they are infect- ed with that dangerous sentiment, their hearts will he irremediably corrupted. To preserve them from this, take care that you are always just. At that innocent age we prefer the happi- ness of being beloved, to the vain pleasure of being applauded. For this reason a child who might enjoy seeing her sister commended for some accomplishment, could not support the idea of her sister's being more beloved than her- self. Convince your children that your heart is a stranger to partiality and that you believe them equally affectionate; be equally just in your praise or blame, and your decrees will never produce animosities. — Madame de Genlis. When feeling stimulates only to self-indul- gence, when the more exquisite affections of sympathy and pity evaporate in sentiment, in- stead of flowing out in active charity exerting itself in all the various shapes of assistance, pro- tection or consolation for every species of dis- tress, it is an evidence of a spurious kind ; and, instead of being nourished as an amiable ten- derness, it should be subdued as a fond and base self-love. More. 462 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. SENSIBILITY. Yet while I hail the Sympathy divine, Which makes, oh man, the wants of others thine? I mourn heroic justice scarcely owned And principle for sentiment dethroned ! While Feeling boasts her ever tearful eye, Stern Truth, firm Faith, and manly Virtue fly! As this strong Feeling tends to good or ill, Tt gives fresh power to vice or principle; 'Tis not peculiar to the wise and good, 'Tis passion's flame, the virtue of the blood. But to divert it to its proper course, [force. There Wisdom's power appears, there Reason's If ill-directed it pursues the wrong, It adds new strength to what before was strong* Breaks out in wild, irregular desires, Disordered passions, and illicit fires. But if the virtuous bias rule the soul, This lovely Feeling then adorns the whole, Sheds its sweet sunshine on the moral part, Nor wastes on fancy what should warm the heart* Miss Moore on Sensibility. Were knowledge, indeed the one thing need- ful, and did the cultivation of the heart form but a secondary part of our plan of education, we might, without scruple, prepossess the minds of our pupils against the vulgar and the ignorant. THE LAWS OP NATURE. 463 But as Knowledge is only valuable in proportion as it has a tendency to promote social and indivi- dual happiness, by giving new motives to virtue, and thus extending the influence of the benevolent affections, and counteracting or extirpating the ma- levolent, it follows, that whatever produces a tendency to the malevolent passions, defeats the noblest purposes for which knowledge has ever been acquired. Wherever the selfish passions predominate, the social and benevolent affections must be pro- portionably decreased. Pride, as a selfish pas- sion, is particularly inimical to the influence of benevolence ; while humility, by depreciating the value of our own superior attainments, and striking off the exaggerations of self-love, per- mits us to dwell upon the excellencies of others, and is therefore productive of the benevolent affections, Whatever tends to inspire children with a high opinion of their own comparative impor- tance, whatever annexes to the idea of situation, independent of worth or virtue, ideas of contempt or complacency, will certainly counteract our design of inspiring them with humility. The light in which children are generally taught to consider servants, must infallibly at a very early 464 - THB LAWS OF NATURE. age, produce this high opinion of their own com- parative importance ; an importance which they must attach to situation, and which must there- fore necessarily be productive of the pride of rank and power, a pride which we would vainly endeavor to reconcile with true Christian humi- lity. '*The corruption and depravity of servants is a general theme. From whence does it proceed but from the corruption and depravity of their superiors ? Governed by the selfishness of lux- ury and pride, we concern ourselves no farther with the morals of our domestics, than is neces- sary to the preservation of our property. No qualities are regarded in them but such as con- tribute to the gratification of our ease or conve- nience. Their virtues are unrewarded by our esteem, their vices, provided they do not imme- diately injure us, unpunished by our disappro- bation. Pride prevents us from undertaking what po- licy would dictate. We feel it too mortifying to represent to beings so much beneath us, that we are the creatures of the same God, that we are to be judged by the same laws, and that in a few fleeting years no other distinction shall be found between us except that of virtue. The moral THE LAWS OF NATURE. 465 precepts of our religion it may not indeed be convenient to dwell upon, as we must blush to recommend rules to their practice, which seldom govern our own* The golden precept of doing as we would be done by, may perhaps sometimes occur to us in our transactions with our equals, but it seems as if we had some clause of excep- tion with regard to our behavior to those of an inferior station. We consider not them as beings endowed with passions and feelings similar to our own. Wrapt up in our prerogative we pro- voke the one with impunity, and insult the other without remorse. Letters on Education, by Miss Hamilton. The faults of the poor arise from a disadvan- tageous situation. The contagion of bad exam- ple is generally caught by the lower from the higher orders ; and I see nothing very exem- plary in our own conduct, to induce me to doubt but that the poor are as good and as prudent, and as industrious, as we should have been m the same circumstances, and under the same disadvantnges. If this be conceded, the vices and faults of the poor must be deemed the vices and faults of an unfavorable situation, rather than of individual delinquency. Remove those disadvantages, and you add as much to moral 30 466 BENEVOLENCE. character as to personal comfort. — Reports of the Society for bettering the Condition of the Poor, by Thomas Bernard. 44 The Horrors of Slavery." — To invite atten- tion to this melancholy subject, and to excite sympathy for the suffering, is the object of this publication. The compiler firmly believes that his countrymen stand exposed to the righteous rebukes of Providence for this glaring inconsis- tency and inhumanity ; that whether they shall be tried at the bar of reason, the bar of conscience or the bar of God, they may justly be condemn- ed out of their own mouths ; and that all their arguments, and all their fightings for liberty, may be produced as evidence, that as a people, they do unto others as they would not that others should do unto them. The suffering and de- graded sons of Africa, are groaning under bond- age in a land of boasted freedom, — nay, groan- ing under oppression from the hands of men who would probably involve a whole nation in war and bloodshed — K>r even set the icorld on fire ra- ther than submit to a fiftieth part of the viola- tion of natural rights, which they inflict on, the African race* Whenever the government of the United States shall come to tbe righteous and consistent de- BENEVOLENCE. 467 termination, that all the inhabitants shall be free, it is believed that no insurmountable obstacles will be found in the way of its accomplishment. Whether it would be just, and equal, and eligi- ble, to take money from the public treasury to redeem African slaves, may possibly become a question for the Consideration of Congress. It may not, however, be amiss for the people to inquire whether it would be more just and equi- table to continue to withhold from more than a million [now two millions] of our fellow beings those essential blessings, without which we our- selves should consider life insupportable. If it should be pleaded, that the powers of the general government are too limited to ensure the personal, civil, and religious liberties of all; can a doubt be entertained of the readiness of the people, when they fairly understand the subject, to enlarge those powers to any extent necessary for the attainment of an object of such transcendant importance ? To say " they would not," would be to utter a most shameful libel against a majority of the freemen of the United States. John Kenrick. Many benevolent minds suffer their excellent dispositions for doing good to remain unemploy- ed in the great service of christian charity, not 468 BENEVOLENCE. for want of means, or of objects, but for want of knowing what good may be done within their own sphere, and how. Genuine Christianity is the union of pure devotion with universal Benevo- lence. The Bishop of Durham. The Pleasures of Benevolence are those which we feel in contemplating the happiness of those we love. We may call them pleasures of sym- pathy, or pleasures of the social affections. Their power is more or less expansive ; They may be concentrated in a narrovv circle or embrace the whola human family. Benevolence may apply itself even to animals, of which we love either the species or individuals ; the signs of their comfort agreeably affect us. The pains of Be- nevolence are such as we experience at the sight or thought of suffering, whether to our own spe- cies or to brutes. Emotions of pity lead us to weep for the woes of another as well as for our own. Instead of having done too much on this sub- ject, legislators have not done enough ; they should have made the refusal, or omission of an act of humanity, a crime, when it is easy to ren- der, and when there results from the refusal any misfortune : to abandon, for example, a wound- ed person in a solitary road, without looking for BENEVOLENCE. 469 help ; not tor warn a person who is handling poison ; not to reach a hand to another who has fallen overboard, or into a place out of which he cannot escape without assistance. In these cases, and others of the same sort, who would complain of a punishment which was satisfied by exposing the delinquent to a certain degree of shame, or by rendering him responsible in his fortune for the evil which he might have pre- vented ? I may observe here, that the legislature should have gone somewhat further than it has done, relative to the interests of the inferior animals : Not that I approve the law of the Gentoos in that respect. There are good reasons for making animals serve for the nourishment of man, and for destroying those who are troublesome or noxious : We are the better for it, and they are none the worse, for they are not troubled as we are with long and bitter anticipations of the fu- ture ; and the death which they receive from us, may always be less painful than that which they would receive in the inevitable course of nature. But what can we say to justify the useless tor- ments which they are made to suffer, by our cruel whims ? Among all the reasons which might be given for declaring gratuitous cruelties 470 BENEVOLENCE* toward them a crime, I shall confine myself to that which relates to my subject: it is a means of culti- vating the general sentiment of benevolence, and of rendering men kinder, or at least of prevent- ing that brutal depravity, which, after having amused itself with animals, may require, in its after-growth to be assuaged by human suffering.* Rev. M. Dumont's Bentham. The friends of humanity will read the above with pleasure. They are beginning to perceive and to acknowledge, that the dumb beast may be legislated for, without a derogation of dignity. And why not, if he may be tortured to death by man, without reproach to his dignity? A friend has added a note here, which is worth preserving : John Neal. This is a subject which passes in review with every humane and enlightened mind. I have quieted my conscience upon this matter without robbing my stomach, by believing that popula- tion, applying the word to man and beast, is governed entirely by the means of subsistence. Man is checked by a regard to consequences — the brute creation can be restrained only by re- gulating sexual intercourse, or by violent death. * See the voyage of Barrow to the Cape of Good Hope ; and the cruelty of the Dutch colonists-to ward the inferior animals an4 the slaves there. SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 471 TREATMENT OF THE INSANE, Insanity, with its causes its probable in- crease, and its treatment, is a subject of deep interest to every civilized community In the Pennsylvania hospital, the cells are warmed by fire places completely inclosed within the walls, so that the inhabitant is comfortable without ac- cess to the fire. During the day, the lunatics find exercise and employment in large rooms, or in fair weather in shady court yards. The use of metallic chains is forbidden— -the substi- tute for them being composed of links of strong bend leather. The straight-jacket is also nearly out of use. Straps buckling over the arms, or sleeves enclosing the whole hand and loosely fastened at the end to a waistband, so as in both instances to admit of as great freedom of mo- tion as possible, are the modes adopted for con- fining the disorderly. In the Connecticut Asylum, the first business of the physician, on the admission of the patient is, to gain his entire confidence. With this view, he is intreated with the greatest kindness, however violent his conduct may be, he is allow- ed all the liberty which his case admits of, and is made to understand, if his case is still capa" 472 TREATMENT OP THE INSANE, ble of reflection, that so far from having arrived at a mad-house where he is to be confined, he has come to a pleasant and peaceful residence, where all kindness and attention will be shown him, and where every means will be employed for the recovery of his health. In case coertion and confinement become necessary, it is impres- sed upon his mind that this is not done for the purpose of punishment but for his own safety and that of his keepers. In no case is deception on the patient employed or allowed, on the con- trary the greatest frankness as well as kindness forms a part of his moral treatment. His case is explained to him, and he is made to under- stand as far as possible the reasons why the treatment to which he is subjected has become necessary. By this course of intellectual treat- ment it has been found as a matter of experi- ence at our institution, that patients who had always been raving, when confined without be- ing told the reason, and refractory when com- manded instead of being entreated, soon became peaceable and docile. In the private asylum also of Dr. Chaplin, at Cambridge, the method was a moral one. In common cases he used no medicines but occa- sional saline purgatives. Coertion and confine- SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. 473 ment were but little employed, and violence made no part of the system. It was by his pe- culiar calm, commanding manner, and admira- ble judgment in conversing with his patients that he succeeded in softening the obstinate and controlling the violent. To moral modes of treatment he added a careful regimen and great exercise. T. Romeyn Beck. HRINKIJVG SOJVGU Fill, fill the cup, fhe bowl, the glass, With wine and spirits high; And we drink while round they pass, To — Vice and Misery! Push quickly round the draught again, And drain the goblet low; And drink in revelry's swelling strain, To — lieason's overthrow! Push round, push round, in quickest time The lowest drop be spent In one loud round, to — -Guilt and crime, And crime's just punishment! Fill, fill again! fill to the brim To — Loss of honest fame! Quaff, deeper quaff! while now we drink — Our Wives' and childrens' shame! 474 SPIRIT OP HVMANITY. Push round, and round, with loudest cheers Of mirth and revelry ! We drink to — Woman's sighs and tears! And — Children's poverty! Once more! while power shall yet remain, E'en with its latest breath, Drink — To ourselves Disease and Pain, And Infamy and Death! The Medical remedy for intemperance, used by Dr. Loiseau of New Orleans and Dr. Cham," bers of New York, was in substance as follows : To a mixture of Ipecacuana and assa-fetida, add two or three grains of tartar emetic : take a portion of this compound in a glass of the fa- vorite liquor every morning for a week. This remedy by exciting a nauseous association, pro- ved efficacious in many cases jor a time ; but the most important point is to mitigate the in- tolerable habitual craving for drink, by substi- tuting the milder kinds of beverage, as pure wa- ter, lemonade, water mixed with molasses and ginger, or, with molasses and vinegar (called switchel,) coffee, tea, fruit, &c. and in no case stronger drinks than cider, mild beer, or light wine. New York papers* SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. 47§ GAMING. Whence sprung the accursed lust of play, Which beggars thousands in a day? Now man prophanes his reasoning powers, Prophanes sweet friendship's sacred hours; Abandoned to inglorious ends, And faithless to himself and friends; A dupe to every artful knave, To ev'ry abject wish a slave: But who against himself combines, Abets his enemy's designs. When rapine meditates a blow, He shares the guilt who aids the foe. Is a man a thief who steals my pelf — How great his theft who robs himself! Is man who gulls his friends a cheat — How heinous then is self deceit! Should custom plead, as custom will, Grand precedents to palliate ill, Shall modes and forms avail with me, When reason disavows the plea ? Who games, is felon of his wealth, His time, his liberty, his health: Virtue forsakes his sordid mind, And honor scorns to stay behind. From man when these bright cherubs part, Ah, what 's the poor deserted heart! Cotton. 476 SPIRIT OF HUMANITY. In man's control!' d, controlling destiny, Two co-essential principles combine, And o'er the moral world hold sovereign sway; Passion the moving power, the guiding, Reason. Their mutual office to support and cherish The human Heart, and yield it happiness. But when wild Passion rises 'gainst its colleague, Tugs fiercely, and with dart deep-rankling tortures To madness the o'erstrain'd heart; firm Conscience then In turn torments; and steeps stern Justice's sword In gore; to save its valued charge, employs The despot's slave-creating power — coertion. Thus alas! each struggling for the mastery, The victim, doubly-devoted, rudely torn By its own guards, dissolves in tears of blood, And until callous grown or rent in twain, Soils and ensanguines Earth's maternal face. Rowley, SPIRIT OP HUMANITY. 477 The sufferings of Brutes.— [Father Bougeant a Jesuit, in his treatise on the souls of Brutes, in order to find some possible palliative for man's cruelty, maintains that the Brutes are animated by evil spirits or devils.] Persuaded as we are that beasts have intelli- gence, have we not all of us a thousand times pitied them for the excessive evils which the majority of them are exposed to and in reality suffer'? How unhappy is the condition of hor- ses ! we are apt to say upon seeing a horse that an unmerciful cartman is murdering with blows. How miserable is a dog whom they are break- ing for hunting ! How dismal is the fate of the beasts living in the woods! exposed to the in- juries of the weather ; always seized with appre- hensions of becoming the prey of more wild an- imals or of the hunters; often suffering cruel hunger, subject moreover to illness and death. If men are subject to a multitude of miseries that overwhelm them, religion acquaints us with the reason of it, viz. their being born sinners. But what crime can beasts have committed by birth, to be subject to evils so very cruel'? What are we then to think of the honible excesses of miseries undergone by beasts, miseries indeed often far greater than those endured by men ? this is in any other system an incomprehensible 478 THE SUFFERINGS OF BRUTES. mystery ; whereas nothing is more easy to be* conceived from the system I propose. The re- bellious spirits deserve a punishment still more rigorous, and happy it is for them that their punishment is deferred. In a word, God'sgood- ness is vindicated and man himself is justified : for what right can man have without necessity and often in the way of mere diversion to take away the lives of millions of beasts, if God has not authorized us so to do 1 And beasts being as sensible as ourselves of pain and death, how could a just and merciful God have given man that privilege, if they were not so many guilty victims of divine vengeance % Bougeant. Des Cartes maintained, that brutes are mere inanimate machines devoid of all reason, thought and perception, and that all their actions are only the consequence of the exquisite mechan- ism of their bodies. This opinion of Des Cartes was probably invented or at least adopted by him to defeat two great objections : One agakist the souls of brutes if they were allowed to have any ; the other against the goodness of God, in suffering creatures who have never sinned to be subject to so many miseries. Encyclopedia,. THE SUFFERINGS OF BRUTES. 479 There is nothing more certain, than that the reason of the thing shows us no connexion be- tween death and the destruction of living agents. Nor can we find any thing throughout the whole analogy of Nature, to afford us even the slight- est presumption, that animals ever lose their li- ving powers ; much less, if it were possible, that they lose them by death ; for we have no facul- ties wherewith to trace any beyond or through it, so as to see what becomes of them. This event removes them from our view. It destroys the sensible proof, which we had before their death, of their being possessed of living powers, Butlers Analogy of Religion. [To the previous hypotheses of Bougeant and Des Cartes, the answer is, that if brutes exist hereafter, they may then be compensated for man's cruelties ; but if (since they are devoid of the moral faculty) they are at death resolved into their constituent elements to form new sen- tient organizations unconscious of prior exist- ence, still they, in common with the entire mass of sensitive nature, of which, though transmu- ted, they continue to form a part, will enjoy an aggregate of comfort, since the larger portion of sentient beings are happily placed beyond man's tyrannic control. But the immense multitudes while in his power: what enormous sufferings do they not endure from his ignorance and blind selfishness. Let 480 THE SUFFERINGS OF BRUTES. every humane person reflect how very large is the number of feeling creatures, whose labors and lives are absorbed by each individual of his own species; in the severe toils of agriculture, heavy transportation and travelling ; in yielding their flesh for his daily subsistence, or their lives for his necessities, convenience or caprice. If the still, small voice of conscience were heard, each individual would strive to practice clemen- cy himself to the extent of his own responsibili- ty, and by his example and influence instruct and reform others : and the contractors and proprietors of canals, railroads, mails, and the wholesale suppliers of the market, having in their charge collected myriads of animals, might with a proportionable facility by guided by le- gislation and popular sentiment to the fulfilment of their weighty duty. This — the most exten- sive but the most neglected sphere for the ope- ration of Virtue, imperiously demands the uni- ted action of the Press, and the Pulpit ; the strong arm of the Law and the all-controlling voice of Public Opinion. After the creation, God pronounced every creature that he had made " very good," and after the flood he u established his covenant with every living creature of all flesh," to man he gave dominion over them. Let those who abuse or pervert this power, delegated to them from the fountain of goodness and justice, re- member that it is also written, " Woe unto the world because of offences ; for it must need be that offences come, but, Woe to that man by whom the offence cometh /"] LR8 D Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Dec. 2004 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 UBRAR* * CONGRE sS oo.iH37e7at.